#Talk about a catfight

[somegrumpynerd]

Meanwhile, in someone else's garden...

[aritany]

Was there proof provided for authoralexharvey alongside that other anon's claim? I don't want to follow them anymore if there was. But I've gone through the last year of their posts (there's a lot, I'm not combing through more) and theres nothing that I can really say is about you. If anything, posting that ask without any evidence is just opening up this other person to potential harassment.

there wasn't. i think answering it at all was an error on my part. on the heels of a similar claim that came with a lot of proof, and with the fact that alex did have me blocked, i was inclined to believe it, but i've taken the original ask down regardless.

to anyone who sees this, please know: no matter what anyone says about me, i will NEVER support or appreciate harassment toward another person on my behalf. it is not in my best interests for anyone to go to bat for me, no matter how well intentioned.

additionally: if you do see someone "trashing" me, unless you know that they are also pretending to be my friend and supporter, it's not my business. people are allowed their opinions, especially when expressed privately. don't tell me about it.

[pauls1967moustache]

Something you posted a while back has really stayed with me and i cant stop thinking about it. Its the idea that most people have this idea that Paul can't say no? Like i don't believe it but in the case the small chance that he did say 'no i don't like you like that' to John in India so many people have this idea that he's totally in the wrong for that? that he had to say yes and its so strange to me? and its actually so upsetting tbh and that's me not me being a no.1 Paul fan that twink deserves death more often than not or to be put in his place even now as an old bingo granny, id take the thickener out of his soup if i could but i really think it relates back to a lot of the feminisation/misogynistic attention he gets. Especially that one quote by certified Beatles writer that describes HDYS as something a scorned lover would write to show he would never be rejected again and its like ??? Paul is allowed to say no? hes very much allowed to not want a relationship? he's allowed to reject it and again its a roundabout way of misogyny with the idea when a woman rejects someone oh she'll be sorry because he'll spend the rest of his time saying mean things about her to everyone who will listen, and just how much she's in the wrong for not wanting/liking them like that, how she is such a bad person because she made him sink that low and do something he later 'regrets'. It's just really strange and sad to me cause again i don't think thats what happened but it the reaction that John was allowed to scream and be angry about it, he was allowed to write piece after piece especially 71 John he was allowed to be angry (and he was yeah) but Paul is never really allowed that same treatment? and even now he gets the treatment of ex-wife who really broke his now dead husbands heart and has to spend the rest of his life 'fixing' that. You can even see it a bit with the way they talk about George and Pauls relationship too the way they use constant femanising language in a derogatory way (bossy, irrational, controlling) to show just how much Paul isn't allowed to be angry and upset the same way they are he has to deal with it

i mean i don't think there was any rejection in india to speak of so this is purely hypothetical nonsense to me anyway, but yeah, i do think it's a silly way to look at it.

i think there's an argument to made like: john and paul's relationship had this weird romantic element to it already, and paul saying no is him kind of leading john on but refusing to ackowledge the truth of what they are - which would be frustrating from john's pov, i get that. the thing about that is that it's not something anyone on tumblr.com/dashboard actually knows for a fact, it's just emotional conjecture a bunch of people decided to project on. which is why the whole paul rejection theory irritates me so much. like yeah! he actually can say no, if that is what he felt! he's not required to be in love with john just because we all want him to be! (not to mention, that if there was a situation where he did reject john, i do not think that's the kind of thing he'd do lightly and without guilt, regardless of any added guilt john would make him feel by being mad about it). it's just a very unkind and reductive way to look at the very real love that DID exist between them, romantic or not. they cared about each other so much. it would be a cruel way for john to treat paul, and it's a cruel way to read into paul's treatment of john.

and i think the other side of it is that a lot of paul's sense of anger and his own feelings of rejection during that whole mess gets overshadowed in the john/paul/yoko triangle. paul was quieter about his anger because john already chose to be with yoko and he didn't feel he had a right to fight that. and the fandom cannot talk about it because half the time it's tied up in the very real mysogyny yoko faced as the face of The Thing That Broke Up The Beatles (even if she isn't), so paul's anger just kind of goes unacknowledged here in relation to john's.

[meljwrites]

Let’s hope the rumours are true and James has been axed from the show

yeah, we were talking about that as well, probably.

[c0rpseductor]

that one post about heteronormative writing that even lgbt people can do really has me thinking about some of the emetwol (sigh i know) fic ive read where emet's being FUCKING FLAMING is skirted around unless it's specifically to highlight something negative. fag voice I just think its interesting how,

like this one author where the only time she ever thought to imply he was attracted to men in any fic was specifically in order to highlight the depth of moral depravity he'd sunk to within the au. also even in that one she completely ignored his gender variance bc like of course. if you're attracted to an effeminate man the first thing you have to do is forcemasc him i guess (????)

or like the one i read recently where his having been interested in a man was briefly mentioned once just to highlight how BAD the situation was and how GRUESOMELY the dude died. like. hi...

its not like i expect everyone to hc him as gay or w/e it's just like . people can't even deal with the Obvious Queercoding. and then when it does get brought up it's only in order to prop up the Redemptive Power Of A Woman's Love and that sort of framing sits poorly with me <3. im like 80% sure im in prodrome right now so im not expressing my point as well as i'd like but it's like...idk how all these people ID but most of the m/f fic ive read completely erases emet's gender nonconformity and that INCLUDES fic by queer people and in the rare instances where his queerness is addressed he's still significantly more masculine AND, as addressed above, it's in the context of like. Oh no! Men fucking men is BAD! shock value!!

and i think it's like, maybe more fraught for people to deal with of the comparative reaction of like Knee Jerk Disgust around queer men culturally; we're just seen as particularly Gross. idk. i need to read better fanfiction but i think the fact that it takes so little work on my part to come across so much of this kind of indicates an issue with how fandom and society approaches queer men? perhaps....?

[chuluoyi]

✎ wife

- gojo satoru x reader

in which the new batch of first years are unaware that their eccentric teacher's wife is the pretty woman roaming the school grounds

genre: fluff, crack, gojo being a silly little menace as always, yuji and nobara are confused, an attempt at humor, lovesick gojo, mention of breastfeeding

note: it’s so silly but i had fun writing this! based on a request by anon (thank you!) but i tweaked it a bit and partly inspired by this fanart. reader is also a teacher at jujutsu high and has a baby with gojo—loosely a continuation of protect

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

"Take that off immediately!"

"Kyaaah~! Yuji is here, you pervert!"

Yuji was a laughing mess. Megumi and Nobara collectively sighed. Nanami attempted to retrieve his once-immaculate suit, now a crumpled mess, from the one and only Gojo Satoru, who found humor in stealing his signature attire and impersonating the stern-faced Nanami in front of his fresh batch of first years.

"He is incorrigible," Nobara grumbled, her eyes slitting. They said that he was a strong sorcerer, possibly the strongest there was, but she found it really hard to believe.

Megumi threw her a deadpan stare. With many years of putting up with this kind of antics under his belt, he pitied her for not knowing that this was far from the worst. "Yeah, he is."

"How does anyone ever put up with him?"

That was actually a good question. "We don't..." Megumi paused, recalling each and every occasion where he tried to do so. "His wife is probably the only one who can."

Nobara sputtered, spinning towards him. "What the—wife? That annoying man has an actual, living, breathing wife?"

"Who? Gojo-sensei?" Yuji chimed in, jumping into the conversation, leaving the supposedly two adults in their catfight. Nanami was still clawing to get his suit back, and Gojo continued to giggle and evade him, playfully running away.

Nobara scoffed. "I bet the woman just married him for the money. He comes from prestigious clan, yes? That must be it."

Yuji felt his eyes would pop out of its sockets. "What are you talking about, Kugisaki!? What woman—"

"Shut up, Itadori! Don't be too loud!"

Nobara and Yuji's unharmonious ruckus irritated Megumi to the bone, and he decided that the best course of action now was to leave them all in the dust. With a glare and a shake of his head, he stalked away.

And thus the two new first years were left with half-truths that would lead them into a major misadventure later that day—

—which happened when they spotted Nanami with you, whom they were still unfamiliar with.

They were convinced that Gojo’s wife must be some sort of boring tramp eyeing his wealth and not this positively radiant, mature woman, and so ruling that possibility out, they positively swooned at the sight before them.

"He's irresponsible, egotistical—" snippets of Nanami's frustrated words conveyed enough to paint a picture of Gojo's character. He was definitely ranting about Gojo to you.

"Is that Nanamin's wife?" Yuji mused, a hint of pink tinting his cheeks. "She is so pretty..."

"They... look cute together," Nobara hummed with dreamy eyes, and then looked at Yuji sharply. "And yes, she's indeed pretty, but know your place, Itadori!"

"I know!"

Based on how the two of you interacted, they concluded that you must have been close, with the way Nanami visibly relaxed around you, and not as formal as he was with anyone else. They highly suspected that the two of you were married, as you wore a ring, which was the ultimate sign.

"And how's the baby?" Nanami asked then, directing the question to you with a smile on his face, prompting surprised gasps from both Yuji and Nobara.

You were glowing, to say the least, and when you let out a small giggle at his question, even both students couldn't miss the way your expression exuded pure happiness. "He is well. Ah, I really wanted to bring him along too, but he was a little messy after eating so I left him at home. You can see him later…"

Yuji gaped. "So it's true..."

"Oh my gosh... and they have a baby." Nobara almost squealed.

And that sealed it. The headline of the day: Nanami is married to this stunning woman wandering the school grounds.

So imagine their utter shock when the second time they found you, you were with Gojo, and he was shamelessly snogging you in the hallway.

“Why are you here?” Gojo was breathless after the soul-sucking kiss he smothered you. His tone remained playful yet carried a clear undertone of concern. "You're still on maternity leave. I'll make sure Yaga knows that."

“Satoru,” you whined, and the use of his given name made Yuji and Nobara gasp in disbelief. “I’m perfectly okay and I don’t need to breastfeed anymore. I should start getting back to work.”

Nobara seemed to finally understand the implication. But Yuji didn’t. His mind flitting from one scandalous idea to another—

Gojo-sensei seducing Nanamin’s wife? Nanamin’s wife cheating on him with Gojo-sensei?

In the brief period he spent with Gojo, Yuji realized that he didn't exactly have a reputation for decency. So despite himself, he could only muster up this one word: “Homewrecker. Homewrecker!”

Yuji’s shriek took all three of you by surprise, and now both you and Gojo were aware of his presence.

“You absolute idiot,” Nobara hissed, face-palming.

“Oh, Yuji? Nobara?” Gojo genially asked, his concern towards you quickly dissolved into a meaningful smirk on his face. “And what do you mean by—?”

Yuji yelped. “You! You are! You’re trying to seduce Nanamin’s wife!”

Silence. Gojo’s eyes twitched beyond his blindfold. You blinked. Nobara wanted to save herself from the second-hand embarrassment. And his loud voice caught the attention of Megumi too, who was close by.

“You seem to be mistaken. First of all, Nanami isn’t married,” Gojo said with a strained voice, maintaining his smile. He then gestured at you, showing you off with pride. “And this here, is my wife.”

“Y-your wife?!” Yuji exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger. “H-how?! I saw her with Nanamin! Talking about a baby—”

“That would be my baby.”

“But how?!”

“Yuji, do you want me to give you a crash course in baby-making—”

“Satoru!”

You sent him a glare and turned to the young first years with a smile. "You must be the new first years? I’m Y/N, and I’m in charge of the second years.” You gestured towards your husband. “And please, ignore most things he says. He’s a bit crass, and if you ever feel he's harassed you, don't hesitate to report it to me."

“Wifey! How could you!”

“Shut up, Satoru! You’re embarrassing yourself!”

“What are you doing here?” Megumi inquired with a deep frown, getting between Yuji and Nobara as they stared at Gojo in total bewilderment.

Yuji exclaimed in disbelief, pointing at you. “Fushiguro! Gojo-sensei’s wife is a beauty!”

“…I know that already.”

Nobara whipped her head towards him. "You knew?! Since when?!"

“They… took me in.”

“THEY WHAT?!”

Gojo grinned at their chorus of surprise. “And what a fine boy he turns out to be, eh?”

Megumi scowled, but Gojo wasn’t bothered at all. If anything, what offended him was—

"What makes you think my dear wife here belongs to Nanami instead of me?" he joked with a mock scoff, earning an eye roll from you.

Nobara and Yuji blurted out their thoughts simultaneously.

“They look good together?”

“Nanamin is dependable?”

Gojo gasped dramatically, one hand flying to his mouth. "So, not only do I not look good with her, but I also don't seem dependable enough?" He turned to you with the most aghast expression. “Tell me that isn’t true—”

You shot him a withering look, deadpanning, “Actually, you might be.”

And Gojo clutched his chest, letting out an anguished cry.

Epilogue

“Satoru… come on, you know I was joking.”

Your dramatic ass of a husband had his head on your lap, hugging your torso tight. The pout on his face hadn’t faded a bit ever since he was done with his class, and now on your marital bed, he was clinging to you with all of his might.

He shook his head petulantly, clicking his tongue. “You’ve embarrassed me in front of my students. You’re so mean!”

You sighed. “I’m sure you have made a fool out of yourself far often. This is insignificant.”

“Hmph! How could you say that?! I don't care if it's me, but I can't believe that it's coming from you! I shower you with my undivided love each and every day!”

“Yeah, yeah…”

Somehow seeing him like this made your heart lurch. He reminded you so much of your baby boy who was sleeping right in the next room that you couldn't resist smiling and pinching his cheeks.

“Okay, okay. My husband is handsome, looks good with me and definitely someone I can rely on,” you relented, and like a lightbulb going off, Satoru suddenly beamed so wide that you were certain his cheeks hurt.

“That’s more like it! Now, now, there’s only one way that can prove how responsible I am! Let me just fill you up with another baby—”

You smacked him on the head.

[malum-forev]

Unexpected

“I can’t believe people actually fall for these kinds of things,” Bucky scoffs, flicking one of the drooping petals on the flower arrangement. “Ridiculous, right?”

He looks over at Sam, wanting some kind of backup from his partner, only to receive a shrug in response. Bucky rolls his eyes, having flowers delivered to the compound seemed so overplayed in his mind.

“No self respecting woman could actually want to date someone who outsources something like giving flowers.” Bucky mutters, his fingers itch to look at the card to see who they’re from. And more importantly, who they’re for.

“Can’t say I agree with you on this one Buck,” Sam leans back on the conference room chair, waiting for the rest of the team to arrive. “Flower delivery is a normal thing in the modern world, not that I expected you to know. You’re not exactly the romantic type.”

He tries to not let Sam’s comment bug him, but it does. A lot. Back when he was alive the first time, Bucky was over the top. So over the top that some women’s knees physically buckled when they saw his gifts and acts of love. Sure, some of the things he only did to get into their pants but who cares, they were romantic nonetheless. 

Bucky tries to concentrate on your detailed plan for the mission but he’s done this a thousand times and could quite possibly complete this recon mission in his sleep and more importantly, the flower debacle is still present. The plastic vase sitting in the middle of the conference table taunts him. The folded card underneath it was basically begging for him to take a look.

He lingers after the meeting, saying some excuse about wanting to look over the documents when really, his curiosity is what’s keeping him seated. 

In his defense, your floor of the compound rarely gets any deliveries, let alone “romantic” ones. At least what people now think is romantic. Apart from Sam, himself and you, the other people on the floor are either married or forever alone. Leave the cheesy displays of affection for the lower level agents, the ones who still get the hots from one look.

Bucky looks both ways, making sure no one catches him as he slips the card from under the vase and reads it. 

Thought of you today. Have a nice week. 

“Nice week? What a loser.” Bucky blows raspberries, throwing the card back on the table. 

“Can I help you with something, Barnes?” Bucky jumps up in his spot as he hears your voice coming from behind him. 

“Just reading this extensive report,” Bucky lifts up the corners of the papers. “Great to know you have so much spare time.”

To say you and Bucky have a complicated relationship is an understatement. You think he’s a reckless agent that gets away with everything just because he was Captain America’s friend and he thinks that you aren’t reliable on the field because you second guess everything. Match made in heaven, right? Not a single mission you’ve been on has resulted in the two of you being civil. It always ends with a catfight and both of you trying to one up the other one.

“I don’t have time for this. Right now all I want is to go home and get some rest before we have to leave in a couple of days.” You roll your eyes, picking up some of the extra copies for the other agents you’re taking on the mission before grabbing the flowers from the table. 

“Are those yours?” Bucky’s voice pitches up, like he can’t seriously believe someone sent you flowers. 

“This is exactly what I don’t have time for.” You huff, leaving him behind in the conference room, wishing he’d just drop it. But knowing Barnes, and hearing his combat boots smack on the floor behind you, he won’t stop. 

“Who is he?” He raises his eyebrows, walking next to you, covering the elevator buttons with his hands so you can’t press either button. 

“Barnes,” You warn. “I’d rather not spend any more time with you than what’s required for my job.”

“Me neither,” Bucky nods. “So, if you can just tell me who sent you the flowers we can go on our way and not talk until we absolutely have to.”

“Does it matter who they’re from?” 

Bucky’s eyebrows shoot up. “Of course it matters, I’ve never known you to like someone enough to give them your work address. I’ve never known you to like someone, period. So, yes, it matters.”

“Why would I tell you?” You quickly press the arrow pointing upwards as Bucky gets distracted with his dig at your non-existent love life. “So you can go and tell him what a big mistake he’s making?”

“That, and maybe I just want to know if he’s a real life breathing man.” He shrugs as you get in the elevator. “With eyes and ears and all those things one would need to know you really.”

“Great, thanks for the motivational talk I so didn’t need.” You flip him off as the doors close. 

-o-

Your head bounces against the side of the plane as you go through some turbulence but you try not to let it disturb you. But it’s something else that wakes you up, or rather, someone else. 

“I’ve come to the conclusion that he works somewhere in the compound.” Bucky drops his body in the seat next to you, his loud voice making your eyes snap open. 

“I’m resting before the mission,” You narrow your eyes at him. “And having you talk to me is messing that up.”

“You’re not disagreeing.” Bucky hums. 

“The only reason I haven’t flipped you over and dislocated your shoulder is because you have somehow gotten on Sam’s good side and I don’t want him giving me his disapproving father look.”

“Just tell me.” Bucky’s crystal blue eyes are looking straight into yours. 

“Tell you what?” You throw your head back with a groan. 

“Who the flowers are from.”

“You’re still on that?” You quirk one eyebrow.

“You never answered it.”

The questions seemed to have died down once you closed your eyes again but Bucky popped up whenever you expected him least.

You rummage through the office of the suspect that had just been killed. A doctor that was once Hydra had been trying to replicate the super soldier serum, the animal testing had been positive and a couple of dog sized rats still lived in his office. 

“Can you tell me what area he’s in?” Bucky leans on the doorframe and the sudden sound has you bringing your gun to his forehead. 

“I could have killed you just now,” You heave. “And I wish I would have, I think death is the only thing that’s going to stop you from asking all these questions.”

“You could just answer.” Bucky shrugs, looking both ways, making sure no one’s around.

“Why do you want to know?” You huff. 

“I want to know who’s romancing you.” Bucky acts like he doesn’t care, but the truth is that he’s spent the last few days with you and only you on his mind. 

The thought of you dating someone that does the bare minimum makes him frown. He’s never given a second thought to your dating life but if he had to rack his brain, Bucky would assume that you would date someone who’s competent enough to handle your wit and your moods, someone who gets your strength and doesn’t try to undermine you, someone who can handle the emotional baggage that comes with this job and doesn’t judge you. Someone who will hand deliver flowers to your apartment to show you he likes you, instead of having them delivered so that everyone thinks he likes you.

“Why do you care about my love life all of a sudden?” You snap at him and it actually stops him in his tracks. 

Bucky stares back at you with half a breath sucking in his lungs.

Love. 

You actually said the word love. 

Nothing’s ever happened between you two (except for that night the two of you spent cuddling together after neither of you wanted to sleep on the floor, but you swore you’d never speak of it again), but you’ve been a constant in Bucky’s life for years. And he doesn’t deal with change very easily. 

If you’re so freely talking about having a love life, as opposed to what? a like life? Get yourself together Barnes! he scolds himself, that means that soon enough you’ll be bringing this mediocre boyfriend around the tower, which means he’ll have to practice his “I’m trying to act like I care what you’re telling me” smile in the mirror while he’s bumped into the guy while you’re still getting ready because lord knows you love to take your sweet time getting ready! And that means that he’ll have to get a tux for your wedding because who would be stupid enough to not marry someone as intelligent and beautiful as you, and that means that you’ll take a leave for your honeymoon but knowing you, work will follow you to said honeymoon. You never stop working and Bucky’s warned you about your body taking a toll after all those years. 

“You’re one to talk.” He remembers you rolling your eyes at him the time he said it. 

God, your eyes. He’s going to miss your eyes. In the morning, you’ll look at him from over your boiling hot coffee cup. Bucky knows that you like to drink your coffee before the sun goes up because, in your words, I want to have at least a couple of minutes to myself before the world needs me. He’d never admit it to anyone but he sometimes acts like he’s had nightmares keeping him up at night just so he can share those quiet moments with you.

And after the tsunami of memories he won’t share with you anymore subsides, another wave comes crashing in. Soon you’ll be retiring, Bucky’s seen you with Morgan. It’s clear you want kids of your own some day. And you sure as hell won’t be having them when someone like Bucky Barnes is your partner. Bucky knows he’s a risk, he wouldn’t judge you if you thought it too. 

“Okay, we’re done here. I’m leaving, White Wolf hot on my heels.” You speak into the chip, making him snap out of his thoughts and return to Earth.

“As always, thanks for doing nothing, Barnes.” You laugh, slapping Bucky's shoulders as you pass him.

Bucky’s lungs burn as he runs alongside you down the corridor, trying to make up for all of the air he didn’t get as he spiraled. 

-o-

Bucky is up and it’s not because he heard the door hinges creak as you came inside or the slapping of your heels on the old wooden floor. It’s because he hasn’t been able to sleep since you left. 

He acted tired and fake yawned all the way to his room as you passed by, all maked-up and perfumed, when in reality he spent the rest of the night trying to decipher a video game someone recommended. 

Bucky’s verdict: I’ve been to war, I don’t need to play make believe. 

He closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on the sounds coming from the kitchen. You opened the fridge door and took a glass bottle of sorts out. From the cork popping, he figured out you were taking out your favorite wine. 

Bucky walks quietly towards the kitchen, not wanting to startle you. 

You gasp as you turn around, cork in your mouth and wine glass filled to the brim in your left hand. 

“I thought everyone would be asleep by now.” You spit the cork into the trash, lowering your face so your hair fans over your features. 

“Nightmares,” Bucky mumbles, his eyebrows furrowing at your unusual mannerisms. 

“Well, now you know who was out here.” You walk past him. “Goodnight Barnes.”

But before you can leave, Bucky holds your arm. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” You try to release from his grip but you know you’re no match for the vibranium arm. 

Bucky lifts up a trembling hand to your face and moves away your hair. Your normally bright eyes now look dull. Red blotching around your irises and black ink running down your face.

“You’ve been crying.” Bucky’s jaw tightens. 

“Thanks for that, Sergeant Obvious,” You scoff. “You’ve discovered my secret. I’m a living, breathing woman with feelings. I know they make you uncomfortable because you don’t have any but I do.”

“Why?”

“Why? Because I’m a person and as much as I would like to be as robotic as you are, sometimes people do things that hurt me.” You roll your eyes. “Next time I have feelings, I’ll make sure to take care of them before I enter the tower so you won’t be bothered.”

“Why are you crying?” He hisses, shutting his eyes before he sees red. “Who made you cry? Tell me a name and I’ll have them killed before dawn.”

“What?”

“No one makes my girl cry.”

Your mouth opens and closes as you try to understand what Bucky just said. The man who’s constantly bothering you and making your life quite impossible is threatening to kill someone just because you shed a couple of tears?

Bucky runs his hands down his face. “We’re wasting precious time here baby, just give me a name and I’ll do the rest.”

“You don’t care,” You tell him but his expression doesn’t change. “You’re not supposed to care. Why do you?”

“The other day, when you told me about the flower idiot, I may have realized something.” Bucky lets out a deep breath. “You’re my partner on the field but you’re much more than that in here.”

Your hand shakes as Bucky takes it and presses your palm flat on his chest. 

“I’m thinking of you when I wake up, hoping I catch you before you get ready. You’re on my mind when we’re training because I want to teach you everything I know, and I want you to teach me how you twisted the agent’s arm and dislocated his knee at the same time. Most of the times when we’re out on missions I’m reckless because I want to keep you safe. I don’t care what happens to me, you’re what needs to be taken care of. At night I dream of you, and then I wake up feeling hollow.”

“You’re too good for me and I know that but that doesn’t mean that some jackass can take you out and then make you cry. If that’s the standard then I’m way above average, baby.” Bucky lets out a dry chuckle. “And I know you don't want me because, who would? But-”

You slam your lips on his, stopping him completely. 

Both of you are starved for touch, wanting to explore every inch of the other. His hands roam your body as yours get tangled in his hair. 

Heavy breathing takes over the kitchen as you separate. 

“Why did it take you so long to tell me?” You rest your forehead on his. 

“Why did it take you so long to kiss me?”

tagged: @kpopgirlbtssvt @shara-ne @namelesssaviour@hallecarey1@aorifukuzawa@sammyssm@alana4610. @mrsjobarnes@vicmc624@unkasworld@theroyalmanatee@almosttoopizza@cjand10@cremebruleequeen@buggy14@jasminocano.@isabel-ffl-xoxo@wintrsoldrluvr@kandis-mom@12345sebby@tittittoee @unaxv. @teambarnes72@angelicrexi@she-wolf09231982@wilsons-striped-ties@tmb510@capswife@pono-pura-vida@touchstarvedforbuckybarnes@tatianah26@drewsuncrustable@minmiin1d

[smutoperator]

How about a fic about Chaeyoung and Somi swapping partners with their boyfriends? I think it could be a good idea for a fic.

-Sana's husband-

Wild Swingers

Son Chaeyoung, Jeon Somi x Male Reader, Somi's Boyfriend

Tags: (lots of) A2M, (lots of) anal, (a little) armpit play, boyfriend swap, catfight, couch sex, creampie, (lots of) deepthroating, (lots of) dirty talking, (lots of) double penetration, griding, jealousy, lesbian, mating press, multiple orgasms, P2M, orgy, rough sex, squirting, spitting, standing DP, titfucking, tribbing, wet pussies

Word count: 7462

Somi and Chaeyoung were having a joint date with both their boyfriends, enjoying themselves as they took them to many places in the city to have fun. Eating, drinking, playing—everything. The two girls were truly having a great day as they were about to head back to Somi's room, until Chaeyoung brought up a question to her best friend.

"You find my boyfriend hot, don't you? Do you wanna fuck him?" Somi got caught by surprise when Chaeyoung suddenly asked this without any filter. "What? No!" Somi got caught by her bestie's boldness. She knew Chaeyoung was a little wild girl, but not to the point of offering her own boyfriend to her best friend. "Well, I mean..." Somi started to hesitate. "You want him; I know you," Chaeyoung replied.

"The plain is fairly simple," Chaeyoung continued. "You can fuck him if I can fuck your boyfriend; done deal?" she asked. "You want to swap?" Somi asked. "Let's tease them, and once we get home, they'll fuck our brains out," Chaeyoung said. "I like the way this is going," Somi said.

The two girls entered a photo booth as the final activity of the day. "Wait for us outside," they told their boyfriends. Somi and Chaeyoung took increasingly naughty pics, with Chaeyoung even sharing one on Instagram with their underwear exposed. But their boyfriends got to see even more, as they later took it off and photographed themselves with Somi's boobs and Chaeyoung's pussy fully on display, as a tease for later in the day.

"Holy shit, you girls have no shame," you told your girlfriend. "We love to tease," Chaeyoung replied to you. "Guys, come to my house; the fun is far from over," Somi continued. "Sure," you told her. "A little extra fun won't be bad at all," you continued.

You four arrived at Somi's house, following her boyfriend as he took a couple beer cans out of the refrigerator. "Girls, do you want some?" he asked. "Maybe later," Somi replied to her boyfriend. "We need to chill a bit here on the couch," she continued. 

Chaeyoung doesn't seem to want to stop at any moment, finger-fucking Somi's pussy into oblivion. "It's better than your boyfriend's cock, isn't it?" she asks. "You have no shame saying this in front of... fuckkkk." Somi can't even finish the sentence; as Chaeyoung fucks her so fast, she decides to join her; after all, two hands stimulating a wet pussy is definitely better than one.

"AHHH FUCK YEAH, AHHHHHHH, I'M CUMMING, I'M CUMMING, SHITTT," Somi screams.

Somi's boyfriend and you took a few snacks to eat and drank a couple beers, roaming around the kitchen in just your underwear and bragging to each other about your girlfriends and feeling lucky about having a pair of hot and wild idols willing to share a date. Both of you were ready to drink more beers until low-pitched screams coming from the living room interrupted you.

Both guys couldn't process the insanity that was ensuing on the couch. Somi and Chaeyoung had started a catfight between them, dropping to the floor. When the guys arrived, Chaeyoung was already yanking Somi's bra and unveiling her naked tits. You two almost intervened, but let the two girls fight a little. Such best friends wouldn't start doing such things without a plan, after all, would they?

The guys stayed watching as the girls slowly took their clothes off of each other. Chaeyoung may be the smaller one, but her strength was clearly no match for Somi, who at this point only had her tiny panties on, and just barely, with her long legs and huge chest already fully exposed. Chaeyoung picked up a bit of water from the adjacent table and poured it on Somi's bare body, making her best friend already wet.

Chaeyoung tripped herself up as she tossed the water into Somi, laughing while doing so. You two just decided to sit, watch, and enjoy it, as it proved to be quite entertaining to watch them fight. As soon as Chaeyoung got back on her feet, she tossed Somi to the couch. "Oh my God, you're such a naughty bitch," the tall Wasian said as Chaeyoung got fully on top of her.

The two kept fighting and laughing on the couch, but Chaeyoung was more effective at taking her friend's clothes off, pulling Somi's thong all the way down to her thighs, and exposing her bare ass, allowing you to catch a glimpse of her anus and pussy as well.

Somi tried to take Chaeyoung's clothes, but the little spinner resisted as hard as she could. Instead, she managed to strip Somi fully naked and give the guys a full frontal view of her best friend. "I knew you were no match for me; you are just tits on a stick," Chaeyoung said, talking trash to Somi. "If I'm just tits on a stick, how about you suck them, little bitch?" Somi responded, topping little Chaeyoung and shoving her massive milkers right into her friend's face. Chaeyoung pushed back, and the two shared a hot kiss, their bodies hotly bumping into each other.

"Oh shit," Somi moaned as Chaeyoung started massaging her naked body, first groping her tits, then running her fingers into Somi's pussy, before running her hands all over her body. "Now let me suck those titties," Chaeyoung said as Somi dove them straight into her mouth, letting her bestie lick them harder than a baby searching for its mother's milk. Chaeyoung kept moving her naughty tongue up and down, left and right, turning Somi on and getting her wet with ease, then spltting and groping them. 

Somi tried to follow and took Chaeyoung's bra off, exposing her own little tits as the tall wasian grinded her pussy against Chaeyoung's fabric, which was followed by stretching her hands right onto Somi's cunt. "Take those off," she told Somi, who proceeded to pull Chaeyoung's panties down as the two started rubbing their pussies against each other, and Somi dove onto Chaeyoung's point nipples to suck them.

"Spit on them, nasty bitch," Chaeyoung ordered, and Somi followed. The little cutie took advantage of Somi stopping her tit sucking and got up the couch to suck the blonde's massive honkers, placing her small head between them. "Oh fuck, you really want those tits all to yourself, cunt," she told Chaeyoung. "Yes, I do; give me all of it," Chaeyoung replied as Somi's big boobs muffled her words.

Somi helped Chaeyoung take her boots off, leaving herself wearing just a pair of sexy red fishnets. "You've got a foot fetish now?" she laughed as Somi started kissing Chaeyoung's little legs and tiny toes. The two then started a little game. "Let's see who squirts first," Chaeyoung said, as both put one of their hands in their pussies and fingered them nonstop, Chaeyoung making sure to grab Somi's boobs while she did it.

"How about we do this together?" Somi said, locking her pussy against Chaeyoung's as the two started a hot tribbing session. Somi moved her hips as she sexily moaned. Her soft and slim slit felt quite overwhelmed by Chaeyoung's meaty cunt rubbing against it. Somi is usually straighter than a pole, but that friction against Chaeyoung's throbbing folds was really turning her on, making her push harder as the tribbing went by.

"Work my pussy," Chaeyoung demanded as she spanked Somi's ass in approval and licked her chops, their clits fully interlocked now. "You're going to get that wet before even getting fucked," Chaeyoung said. "HAHAHAHA!" Somi let out a massive laugh, the two interlocking their legs and squirting fountains from their pussies.

"Let me lick it," Somi demanded as she dove her head into Chaeyoung's core. "If you want it so much, then take it," Chaeyoung said, grabbing Somi's head and dunking it into her folds. Even though Chaeyoung was the one being eaten out, it was Somi who was moaning. "Hmmm, you love that wet, sloppy pussy; let me print it all over your face," Chaeyoung said. "Taste me; let me cum all over your mouth. Put that tongue all over my pussy," she continued.

Somi follows Chaeyoung's orders and quickly drives her little bestie over the moon. She always bragged about being a good tongue-kisser, and it seems like those skills translate well into eating pussies. You feel a little envy, as it feels like you are no match for what Somi is doing and that making Chaeyoung cum just with your tongue is so hard to come by. Meawnhile, Somi can do that with such ease.

Chaeyoung lets out lout moans as Somi's tongue sends shivers down her spine. "You dirty fucking girl," she tells her, laughing. "You never told me you could eat pussy like that," she said. "I didn't know that either," Somi said as she slapped Chaeyoung's cunt after she cums, letting her best friend squirt out further juices.

"My turn," Chaeyoung says, flipping Somi around. "Dirty bitch already spitting on that fucking pussy, such a dirty girl, Somi says as Chaeyoung outs her whole hand inside her mouth. "Get this pussy wet for my boyfriend," she continues. You overhear it but feel confused, thinking she was talking about Somi's own boyfriend.

Chaeyoung makes a mess of Somi's pussy, fingering it in an insane way. "Ahhhhh fuck," Somi says, unable to handle the pressure from Chaeyoung's magical hands. Without even using her mouth, she makes Somi cum with ease and turns her into a moaning mess, finishing the job with lots of licking into Somi's throbbing clit that makes her friend squirt a river.

At this point, you and Somi's boyfriend can't contain yourselves and start jerking off at the sight of your girlfriends fucking the shit out of each other. They are just too hot for you two to handle, and even better when they combine forces, as you two really start pondering why they haven't done this earlier.

Chaeyoung doesn't seem to stop finger-fucking Somi's pussy nonstop. "Better than your boyfriend's cock, bitch?" she asks. "That's bold of you to say it in front of... fuckkk." Somi can't even finish the sentence, as Chaeyoung keeps plowing her fingers deep in her cunt rather than joining her best friend, as two hands stimulating a pussy is better than one. "OH FUCK, OH YEAH, AHHHHH, GOD, YEAH, YEAH, YEAH," Somi turns into a screaming mess as Chaeyoung gives her an evil laughter, enjoying her big tit friend cum like a big whore.

"Come on, come on," Chaeyoung says. "I'M CUMMING, I'M CUMMING, OH SHIT." Somi screams as Chaeyoung's hands stay obliterating her pussy and as Somi starts trembling in orgasms, she finishes her with more licks all over her clit while burying those fingers even deeper into Somi's cunt.

"I see you guys are ready to join the fun," Chaeyoung says. You run in her direction as she smiles at you, already noticing your throbbing erection under your panties, getting up as you kiss her. "We are going to do something different today," she says. "You'll take Somi, and I'll take her boyfriend," she continues. You hesitate a bit, as you have never done a boyfriend swap before. "Are you sure?" you ask Chaeyoung. "Yes, we already set everything up; we are ready and wet," she responds.

Somi moves in your direction, still trembling from her orgasm. Her fully naked body is truly wonderful. Just her tits alone would make her extremely hot, but she's got great legs, a beautiful face, a sexy tummy, and a pink, peach-shaped pussy. The two girls kneel on the floor, and Somi starts with a slow but hot sucking of your cock, which contrasts to Chaeyoung's frenetical blowjob to Somi's boyfriend, where she's already taking his shaft deep in her small throat from the start. Somi, on the other hand, likes to build things up calmly, adjusting as she finds the best spots to suck your cock.

"That feels so good," you tell Somi as she moves her mouth further down your shaft. Chaeyoung, on the other side, shows no mercy to Somi's boyfriend's cock, twisting it hard as she bobs her head on it as fast as she can. If just a little deepthroat is enough to make Somi gag and go back to your tip, Chaeyoung just takes any cock balls deep in her throat until she runs completely out of air.

"That's a good whore, spitting all over that cock," Somi's boyfriend tells Chaeyoung, who is already getting extremely loud and sloppy, with some of her saliva landing on his hips. Meanwhile, Somi tries to stay focused and do her best work on your cock, slowly jerking it off. Their styles may be very different, but both are more than satisfying to their partners.

Somi's pretty face is too hard for you to resist as you puush your cock up into her throat, testing her to see if she can take it full speed. Somi slows you down a bit, managing to get the perfect pace for her pleasure. On the other side, it would be incorrect to say Chaeyoung is getting her face fucked. With the way she keeps bobbing, it's rather her face that is fucking Somi's boyfriend pole.

Their contrasting styles really create a hot sexual atmosphere in the room. Somi is like a slutty princess, enjoying herself as she slaps your cock into her big tits, while Chaeyoung is just a nasty, dirty whore, trying to take the life out of the cock she's sucking, putting her best friend's boyfriend on the edge as she bites his cock as if she's an electric eel, shocking her target.

"Ohhh shit," Somi's boyfriend screams as Chaeyoung makes his cock throb hard. "Put it down my fucking throat," she demands, wanting it more. You watch it and get flashbacks of when you two started dating and you filled her mouth full of cum after one deepthroating and thought you had literally blown it with her. Now you see her repeating the same moves on another guy.

You just let Somi take her time. You're very enamored with her; she just oozes sexiness, and the methodical way she works on your cock leads to great arousal. If Chaeyoung just straight up swallows any cock she sees on sight, Somi likes to savor them.

Somi gets rewarded with a hot facefuck for her great blowjob as you two slowly build up more chemistry. She naugthly stares at you and signals she's ready for more, giving some love to your balls for the first time. Chaeyoung and Somi's boyfriend fill the room with all the noise as you and Somi opt for silent work and get to know each other better. 

"Holy fuck!" Somi's boyfriend screams as Chaeyoung continues to attack his cock nonstop. "My dirty boy loves this dirty girl getting down that cock, doesn't it?" she asks. Somi herself decides to get a little sloppier, starting a louder blowjob as she spits on your cock and pops it in and out of her mouth, making sexy sounds.

"Suck that pipe, suck that pipe." The order comes from Somi's boyfriend to Chaeyoung, but his girlfriend also follows suit with it. Both girls are now deepthroating their opposing boyfriend's shafts. Chaeyoung handles it with ease, giving commands like "Look at me while I blow your fucking cock, and don't ever think of cumming," but your hard thrusts into her throat end up being a struggle for Somi, who decides to bring out her not-so-secret weapon.

Somi places your cock between her boobs. It was what you had been dreaming of the moment you saw her. And it blew even your highest expectations out of the water. Her tits are just perfect sized for your cock to wrap around them, squeezing it at the perfect spots, but also to slide up and down them, making banging them more pleasurable than fucking a lot of pussies out there.

Somi licks your chest as you fuck hers, then you two kiss each other and enjoy yourselves. You never thought it was going to be this good, but barely five minutes in, you're in love with her. Meanwhile. Chaeyoung just wants to be as nastiest as possible to Somi's boyfriend, throbbing cock, making a mess of it, and licking its balls to tip like there was no tomorrow.

"God damn it!" Somi's boyfriend screams as he tries his best not to blow his entire semen on Chaeyoung's slutty face. Meanwhile, it's all about kissing and fucking her tits between you and Somi, who grabs them with her hands and squeezes your cock even further as you get more and more addicted to her massive fun bags.

"Ahhh, fuck, please don't stop fucking my titties," Somi says as she enjoys every time your throbbing tip emerges out of her knockers, diving down to lick it a few times, her hands wrapping around them even further. Your cock and her boobs seem like a match made in heaven, to the point you wouldn't be opposed to going all day just banging them.

Chaeyoung feels a little jealous watching you and Somi have all that boob fun. It's truly the thing she envies her best friend the most, as her small tits are a huge contrast to Somi's big melons. But she gets creative and finds a way to have Somi's boyfriend's huge cock rubbing on her body, mimicking you two's titty fun using her armpits instead. This is something Somi's boyfriend isn't accustomed to, but he enjoys it a lot. "If you think it's very tight, wait until you see my pussy," she brags.

"Then let me see it," Somi's boyfriend replies. As his girlfriend is still busy pleasing your cock with her knockers, he and Chaeyoung are ready to move towards raw and animalesque fucking. They work together to bring the couch to the other side of the room, as she wants both couples side by side. It takes a while for you and Somi to notice, as it feels like her chest has placed some kind of enchantment on you. She licks yours while you suck hers. By the time you do, Chaeyoung is already sitting on Somi's boyfriend's pole and getting her cunt impaled.

Somi decides to do something different and sucks your cock a little more before getting it inside her. It's good that her sexy mouth at least tries to distract you as you watch Chaeyoung riding her boyfriend's cock and making some of the craziest facial expressions you've seen. "She never did this to me," you start thinking. Meanwhile, you won't be seeing those reactions from Somi or her big tits bouncing as she decides to sit on it in a reverse cowgirl position.

All that jealousy goes out of the window the moment your cock enters Somi's warm folds. Her pussy tightens so hard that as soon as you get inside her, you have to hold yourself back, not to cum. Also, you finally get time to appreciate the backside of Somi's body. Her tits may be her best-known asset, but she's got an amazingly fit and toned ass that makes the perfect clapping sound every time it descends down your hips. Soon, Somi's delicious body and perfect pussy make you forget about the loud noises from Chaeyoung on the other couch.

"You like how I ride your fucking cock like that? You like your fucking cock in my tight little pussy?" Chaeyoung asks, as Somi's boyfriend can only groan, with her attacking his cock in full force and getting increasingly louder. "FUCK" Chaeyoung scrreams as she fingers her pussy, looking more and more like a crazy nymphomaniac.

On your side, Somi places her hands on your chest and keeps bouncing on your dick, slowly increasing her pace. She spreads her ass a little to ease up the pressure your massive cock exerts on her tight holes, twerking on it once she gets adjusted. The way her ass moves is amazing. Somi may not have the fattest butt, but she knows how to move it up and down a cock.

If Somi's pussy has full control over you, with her start teasing you and rubbing her entrance against your tip, on the other side, it's her boyfriend that treats Chaeyoung like his fuckdoll, pumping his cock up and down her pussy as a rough punishment for her for being such a whore. The more she moans and screams, the more he attacks. "AHHHHHHHH, FUCKKKKKK," is all Chaeyoung can say as Somi's boyfriend prick bulges under her belly and hits her cervix until it makes her cum.

Somi tastes her juice out of your cock, while her boyfriend's is getting creamed by Chaeyoung's squirt. "Give me your pussy one more time," she tells her, showing no mercy for the little spinner still recovering from her orgasm. Somi, standing up a little while jerking your throbbing cock, gets a privileged view of watching her best friend turn into her boyfriend's fleshlight.

"You've been so good to me; you deserve to see my tits bouncing as I sit on your cock," Somi says, switching to a regular cowgirl position and mirroing Chaeyoung, who moans so loudly it hurts Somi's ears. She presses on to your muscular chest and sets them free for you to enjoy the bounce and grope them as she rides you, trying to do her best to concentrate as Chaeyoung has turned into a screaming mess.

The two girls compete for attention. Somi lets her bouncy boobs do the talking, but Chaeyoung's shaking orgasms are entertaining to watch. In the end, both of you are feeling blessed to have such sexy beauties and masters of fucking bouncing on your cocks nonstop. Both girls keep challenging each other, seeking both men's approval as they engage in a grinding competition and put both throbbing cocks on the edge. But unlike in their early catfight, it's Somi who comes on top this time, rotating on your cock with her body floating in the air in an extremely sexy way that puts you over the moon.

Somi keeps teasing you and starts rubbing her folds in your shaft, her boobs getting louder than ever. You can't help but want to satisfy her appetite even further: "I want to fuck your ass right now," you tell her. "Ooooh, you want to fuck my ass?" Somi naughtily asks. "Yes, didn't you hear it?" you reply.

Chaeyoung hears you two talking and asks Somi's boyfriend the same thing. You put Somi sideways on the couch and entered her tight asshole. "Oh, fuck yeah," Somi says as you slowly bury your shaft in her anus. You start with very soft pumps, not wanting to break her, but you quickly notice she is well accustomed to anal sex and start pumping faster. Chaeyoung, trying not to lag behind, pushes Somi's boyfriend back down the couch and goes back to sitting on this dick, this time anally and in reverse.

If you and Somi opt for passionate spooning anal fucking, Chaeyoung goes straight for the kill, manhandling Somi's boyfriend's cock while she fingers herself, tightening her hole even further. "My ass is so fucking tight," both girls repeat almost at the same time, as Somi also gets increasingly aroused by her butthole being stretched out."

"I want this cock so bad; I want you to fuck me so hard," Chaeyoung says. Meanwhile, Somi is all about moaning as your cock keeps stabbing her clenching asshole. "FUCK MY ASS, FUCK MY ASS!" Chaeyoung screams as she starts squirting all over Somi's boyfriend's hips. 

Chaeyoung finds a way around Somi's body and kisses you while you're still fucking her best friend. "Do you enjoy watching me get fucked in the ass, daddy?" she asks, but you ignore your screaming whore girlfriend and focus on Somi, leading her to bounce even harder on Somi's boyfriend's cock. Meanwhile, Somi's own ass got so tight that you struggled to get halfway inside it. God, you never knew she could be so tight.

The more the assfucking goes on, the bigger of a whore Chaeyoung gets. She lies on Somi's boyfriend's chest now and lets him pound her in a pearly gates position while groping her tiny tits. She now squirts once every five seconds. She looks to your side, her body limping and itching as she gets pounded to oblivion, but she can only see your ass as you put Somi under an anal mating press and treat your slutty girlfriend with indifference.

You pound Somi's ass hard, finally managing to carve up her tight hole and making her moan and scream in a loud way for the first time. "Fuck me balls deep," she demands of you. On the other sofa, Chaeyoung gets placed under a full Nelson, making her asshole gape even further and forcing her to hold herself by Somi's boyfriend's knees. "God damn it, it feels so fucking good; pound my fucking asshole; fucking give it to me, deep in my asshole," she says while getting ragdolled.

"Let me suck my ass off your fucking cock," Chaeyoung says as she stands up and throats Somi's boyfriend, enjoying her dirty anal juices and twising his shaft. Somi follows suit with your cock, taking it deep in her throat. While she does it, you call Chaeyoung with a request.

"I want to fuck your ass too," you tell her. But Chaeyoung is too focused on a different cock to listen to you, performing a 69 on Somi's boyfriend. "You want to fuck my asshole? Tell your girlfriend to allow it," Chaeyoung finally responds, leaving the answer up to Somi. "Fuck her asshole," she says immediately.

You never had an easier entrance to Chaeyoung's butthole than today. Her hole is already massively gaped from the previous fucking, unlike her usual tight self. As you easily stretch her butt out, Chaeyoung reminds herself of how much she has missed that thick cock of yours. Somi and her boyfriend just watch as Chaeyoung gets her anus further gaped. You show her no mercy after seeing what she just did minutes before, and with this pounding, you have a feeling of revenge over her being such a slut.

"Put that fucking back in my ass; fucking give it to me." Chaeyoung demands, as your cock slides out just for a second. She is thirsty even after a rough pounding. The more you fuck her, the more she wants it and talks dirty. You start spanking her. But she's unfazed. This whore is truly insatiable, to the point where you start wondering if just one cock will be enough to satisfy her.

"You like that?" you ask Chaeyoung as you keep slapping her ass. "Yes, don't ask those stupid questions and slap my butt," she replies. You pull out a bit to admire the gape in her anus, but you think it can grow even larger. Meanwhile, Chaeyoung reaches her hands out to Somi's pussy as her best friend sits her ass on her boyfriend's cock. "Oh, that's a tight asshole," Somi says, and you attested to it just a few minutes ago.

Somi gives Chaeyoung a naughty stare as her pussy gets fingered. She truly wanted to ride your cock like that in the ass, but after you pounded her so hard, she decided to take a little break and get back to the safety of her boyfriend. But in the end, her hole was already so sore that she quickly started to feel the burn after a few rides.

"Ride his dick like a fucking whore; let him stretch your ass," Chaeyoung told some, who suddenly left the pain behind and got naughtier, roating on her boyfriend's cock. "Keep going, keep going," Chaeyoung said, which could be an incentive either to you or to Somi. You took it, switching her from the doggy position she found herself in since you penetrated her asshole and putting her under a rough, pile driver that made her squirt all over the room as you pounded her balls deep.

"I'm ready to be filled with two fucking cocks in my holes," Chaeyoung said after a while. Your answer was just to put her on the floor and lift her leg up, forcing Chaeyoung to cling onto the couch as you further manhandled her asshole. "I guess your holes are so used up that one cock or two cocks won't make a difference," you mocked her.

Somi cleaned up her boyfriend's cock, preparing Chaeyoung to sit her pussy on it. You immediately filled the void and didn't let the gorgeous Wasian go without anything to do, grabbing her by the boobs and shoving your cock on her face for her to suck. Somi took it to the fullest, enjoying the new anal flavor from Chaeyoung in your cock. "That tastes so good," she said.

As Chaeyoung prepared to sit once again on Somi's boyfriend, you two were still busy. Somi just didn't want to let go of your cock, even as Chaeyoung's asshole was almost begging to be filled up, winking at each thrust she received in her cunt. But Somi was addicted to the taste of Chaeyoung's butthole and missed your cock very badly, deciding to be a little selfish.

Chaeyoung got a little upset with her best friend, craving your cock. "You're taking too long, bitch," but Somi just couldn't listen. Just after a while, she gave the green light: "Ready to fuck your whore girlfriend's ass again?" she said, finally freeing your cock. "Yes," you answered her. "Then give it back to her ass," Somi continued.

An impatient Chaeyoung continued to bounce on Somi's boyfriend's cock harder than ever, making loud noises on the couch. She stopped as soon as she saw your cock coming in her direction, but you still teased her a little, missing her hole intentionally. Somi slapped Chaeyoung and asked her, "Ready to take two at the same time in front of your best friend, slut?". 

The scream of joy Chaeyoung gave when you finally inserted your cock back in her ass was enough to answer. She rested her head on Somi's left boob as the pair of cocks started working on her holes together. Somi loved watching it, especially your cock at the top pumping in and out of Chaeyoung's ass. She quickly found out you two would be relentless to her, splitting her tiny body up with no regard. Chaeyoung got clingier and clingier to Somi, fingering her best friend's pussy to endure the scorching pounding she was taking.

"OH FUCKKKKK!" Chaeyoung screams. "Fuck her," Somi told both you and her boyfriend. It turns out that very few things are hotter than a short girl being double-stuffed by a pair of cocks. Chaeyoung started breaking apart, but you weren't going to lift off. "You said you could take it; now there is no going back," you told her, giving her a little tap in the ass.

"Get your fucking cock back in my hole," Chaeyoung said when you slid out. She slowly rose up to the challenge, but you showed her who was in control, increasing your pace and destroying her asshole, turning her back into a screaming mess. "Suck my fucking titties; they want some love from a tiny little slut like you." Somi poked fun at Chaeyoung as she reached to lick her melons.

"Keep fucking me like a dirty little slut; get deep inside both my fucking holes; come on guys," Chaeyoung demanded as you two got the perfect sync to hit her holes. "Ride those cocks, come on," both of you told her. Chaeyoung kept getting stretched out, her face now on Somi's lap, who was now spanking her back, enjoying watching her best friend become a cocksleeve.

Chaeyoung almost teared up when you two finished fucking her, but tried to show some strength by going right back to riding Somi's boyfriend's cock. You, still behind her, quickly put her back in her place, mounting on top of her and giving Chaeyoung the roughest assfucking of the day yet. "Who owns you, bitch?" you asked her. "It's you, baby; you own me; you own my fucking asshole; your fucking cock was built to destroy it," she answered.

Somi kissed Chaeyoung and tried to provide a little relief for her bestie, but the more she watched her getting double penetrated, the more she wanted it for herself. But it was all a ploy. As soon as Somi offered help, you pumped Chaeyoung even deeper, and when Somi offered her tits for Chaeyoung to suck, you got even rougher.

"Give it to me; give it to me harder," Chaeyoung said. You followed her orders to the fullest, manhandling her ass in a way you had never done before. "I FUCKING WANT IT HARDER... OH MY GOD," Chaeyoung collapsed on both your cocks, completely out of breath and panting. "Damn, you're looking like this, and it's not even an airtight one," you mocked her.

"Taste your dirty ass and your fucking pussy," you ordered her, as Chaeyoung crawled and dove first into Somi's boyfriend before maniacally cleaning yours. "Is this the taste you like so much, Somi?" she asked her best friend. "Yes, I hope your pussy tastes just as good," Somi says, taking her boyfriend's cock to do the cleanup.

You fucked Chaeyoung's face with the same intensity you did to her ass, while Somi kept tasting her boyfriend's prick and jerking it off. "You want to feel two cocks inside you too?" you asked her. "Yeah," Somi gleefully answered. And you knew if Chaeyoung could do it in her tiny frame, it wouldn't be a problem for a girl of Somi's stature.

Chaeyoung made sure to get your cock as ready as possible for Somi, spitting all over it and shaking it hard. You kept teasing Somi. "Ready to get fucked by two cocks at the same time?" you asked again. "Yes, I am," she smiled. "When?" you asked. "Right now," she replied. "Then come here," you ordered her.

Somi sat her pussy on your shaft. "God damn it, your pussy is so fucking wet," you told her. Somi promptly answered the praise for her cunt by twerking it on your cock. Her boyfriend suddenly joined; his hard thrusts up her ass were perfect to you, making her tits bounce right at your face. "You like two fucking cocks filling you up right now, since you asked so much for it, slut?" Chaeyoung poked Somi, who could only pray to God now.

Chaeyoung spat on Somi's boyfriend's cock a lot; she knows taking on her best friend's tight asshole is always a hell of a challenge. You just gave her pussy slow pumps, enjoying her tits to the fullest in your mouth and making them your personal playground.

Somi's holes started queefing as the fucking continued, and she clenched them, enjoying the bliss of getting double-stuffed. At the bottom of the pile, you were having the best life, torn between Somi's massive knockers and your girlfriend's wet pussy. "Fucking cum all over them," Chaeyoung demanded, grabbing Somi's hair as you two fucked her harder, staring her best friend down and giving her a sexy look.

"It seems like our boyfriends are punishing us with hard fucks in the ass for cheating on them; maybe we should do this more often," Chaeyoung said as Somi endured the same as she did before. Another queefing sound came out of Somi's holes. "Stop farting, bitch, and take those cocks," Chaeyoung mocked her best friend's tightness.

"I love watching your tight holes get obliterated," Chaeyoung said. Somi didn't answer her, focusing on just taking those cocks. "Just like me, you're a dirty slut now, getting stretched out like that," she continued. "Fuck yeah, I am," Somi said.

"Then show me." Her boyfriend came out of nowhere and pumped Somi's ass even deeper. "OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! FUCK ME! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! OH MY FUCKING GOD!" Her screams filled the room as Somi got massacred by her boyfriend's throbbing cock. "Come on, give me your cum," her boyfriend said. "Follow him; do it, Somi," Chaeyoung followed.

Somi releases her orgasm as you give her ass a little tap. Her DP was perfect for you to rest as you let her boyfriend do most of the work and got to enjoy eating and sucking her and Chaeyoung out. But even after cumming, her boyfriend doesn't seem done with her. After all, jealousy goes both ways, and he saw her being all clingy to you and worshipping your cock with her tits and pussy in a way she hadn't done to him in a while.

Somi finally gets a break after a long DP. She can barely walk, and her head is spinning, but both cocks are already lined up for her to taste her holes. It is what this selfish cunt likes the most; she already tasted Chaeyoung's but wanted hers too, alternating between both cocks. Then Chaeyoung chimed in and took Somi's boyfriend cock for some more nasty ass-to-mouth, like the dirty whore she is.

"Your ass tastes so good in this fucking cock," Chaeyoung told Somi, who was focused on your cock above all else. "Oh my God, you're such a good cocksucker; keep going; worship my dick." Somi's boyfriend praised Chaeyoung's blowjob skills, wondering to himself if he hadn't cum yet despite all her efforts.

You two weren't done, and you got addicted to this double penetration thing. "Give me that pussy," you told Chaeyoung, carrying her tiny body and stuffing your cock in her cunt. Somi sat on the couch, recovering from the pounding she had just taken, watching Chaeyoung get lifted in the air as her boyfriend followed suit and stuffed her best friend in the ass.

"Come on, right there," Chaeyoung invited the challenge, riding both cocks while mid-air and performing a hot standing DP. Somi couldn't help but  watch as she got on her knees and took a look at both those massive cocks taking turns pumping little Chaeng like nothing. "Holy shit, you guys are filling her up well," Somi said, getting even closer and staring right at Chaeyoung's stretched-out fuckholes.

"Bounce up and down those cocks, baby," you told Chaeyoung, who quickly obliged. "There you go," you praised her as she clinged one arm to each of you, screaming as she got stretched out. You put Chaeyoung back on the ground, noticing Somi's return to the frame as you fed your girlfriend's pussy for her to taste. Meanwhile, in the background, her boyfriend took Chaeyoung's sore asshole all by himself and manhandled her.

Somi pulled her boyfriend's cock out of Chaeyoung's ass to taste her favorite hole once again. Chaeyoung took sloppy seconds of her pussy, gripping your cock as soon as Somi left. You could see how much Somi was obsessed with the taste of her best friend's butthole by the enthusiastic way she sucked her boyfriend's meat, which even resembled some of Chaeyoung's high-octane blowjobs early on.

"You look so good sucking his cock," Chaeyoung told Somi, who replied in the same way. The two girls knew this wouldn't go on for long; they made sure their boyfriends would be ready for the final stages of this whole debauchery. Their sloppy blowjobs had both your cocks reinvingorated and harder than ever, ready for even more even after such a long fucking, as both of you rewarded them by slapping your hard meats into their needy faces while they stuck their tongues out.

Chaeyoung climbed back into your lap as you carry fucked her once more, with Somi still busy with her boyfriend's cock, before letting it go so Chaeyoung could enjoy a couple extra minutes of standing DP that she loved so much, with Somi going down low to massage both cocks balls as you two thursted up Chaeyoung's fuckholes.

"These two cocks are doing a great job; I want to try them together again," Somi said down low. If Chaeyoung did something, she was going to follow. This time, they swapped cocks, with Somi back to sucking yours while Chaeyoung took Somi's boyfriend. "I'll take your ass this time," you told Somi, putting your thumb in her mouth as she jerked your cock off. You two kissed each other and went straight to the couch, with Somi quickly sitting on your meat.

Somi got her asshole plowed from the start, with Chaeyoung giving her pussy a little fingering before allowing Somi's boyfriend to take it. All three of you attacked Somi hard, making sure she would feel completely overwhelmed. Her boyfriend is pumping her pussy, you are taking her ass, and Chaeyoung is groping her big tits. "Tell us how much you love it," Chaeyoung asked. But Somi couldn't answer, as the pumps got faster and the groping got harder. "AHHHHH. "YEAHHHH!" was all she could scream, sandwiched between two horny men destroying her tight holes and a slutty friend who couldn't help but follow everybody else into their addiction towards her tits.

Chaeyoung sat her pussy on Somi's beautiful face and grinded on it while you two kept stretching her out. Somi had turned into a fucktoy for all three of you, the perfect stress relief. The top cumslut. "Look at your boyfriend, Somi; tell him how much you want those cocks filling you up," Chaeyoung said, lifing her best friend's head out her pussy. "I want every inch of it," Somi said. "Then, are you gonna cum all over them?" her boyfriend replied.

"Yes, I will. AHHHHH. FUCK YEAH!" Somi screams as her body twists in orgasm after orgasm. For some seconds, it feels like she died and ascended to heaven, even if three devils were fucking the shit out of her and just couldn't stop. "OH MY FUCKING GOD!!!!!" she screamed as a squirt dropped out of her pussy. 

But that wasn't enough, and it only made both of you pump her harder and Chaeyoung grope her harder. Tall, blonde, gorgeous, and full of milk in her chest, Somi was the perfect woman to get double penetrated at every possible turn. Chaeyoung enjoys it a lot, as she has her best friend's big boobs all by herself and gropes them nonstop. "Are you gonna fucking cum again?" she asks Somi. "YEAHHHHHHH, FUCK ME, FUCK ME, FUCK ME," Somi answers, unleashing even more juices from her cunt.

Somi quickly jumps to taste her ass from your cock, while Chaeyoung scoops her best friend's pussy juices. "We aren't done yet," she says as the two continue to suck both guys cocks sloppily. "You're so nasty," Somi's boyfriend says about Chaeyoung before putting her on the couch to fuck her pussy. "Lick my pussy while he fucks me," Chaeyoung orders to Somi, who dives down it. You, seeing Somi on all fours, stick your cock in her pussy as she sucks Chaeyoung's tits and massages her pussy.

Both guys now just want to finish. Meanwhile, Chaeyoung puts Somi's tits in her mouth as the Wasian beauty gets on top of her. The guys pump the girls out until Somi's boyfriend is the first to finish, dumping his long-awaited load into Chaeyoung's meaty pussy, with Somi licking it at the top. You soon follow, filling Somi's pussy full of cum, which falls right into Chaeyoung's waiting mouth.

All four of you are exhausted at this point. After a long hour of crazy fucking, each of your girlfriends is filled with cum from the other guy, which is the perfect way to end this great day. You and Chaeyoung take a shower after and head home. Somi's boyfriend follows suit. "See you tomorrow, baby.".

That day becomes a living memory in Somi's head. She thinks about it at night, masturbating herself as she remembers your cock doing wonders for her, from fucking her tits to finishing inside her, all the way to all those times you fucked her holes or let her savor Chaeyoung's ass from your cock. Somi knows she needs another day like this and will make sure to set it up herself next time.

The next day arrives, and this time, Somi is with a different friend, talking about some regular stuff until she changes the subject of the conversation.

"Giselle, I need something from you,"  Somi says.

"I'm all ears," Giselle replies.

"Can I have sex with your boyfriend? You can fuck mine too," Somi continues.

Giselle makes a shocked expression. "I'm not sure; I don't know if he's going to accept it.".

Somi tells her about her day with Chaeyoung, leaving Giselle in awe.

"I'll see what I can do."

[mianexil]

◇ POV: He heard/saw how someone was planning to harm you ◇

(pt. 1)

◇ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ◇ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ◇

💫 [ The reaction of the Windbreaker boys when they heard/saw that someone was going to harass you. Don't worry, cutie, you're under the protection of these boys ]

💫 [ I hope someone will check out the Easter Egg I left here ]

◇ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ◇ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ◇

ㅡ Umemiya, Kaji, Nirei, Kiryu

Umemiya

A long-awaited weekend. How pleasant it becomes with the onset of spring. There is even a desire to go out on warm evenings, not to sit at home in a plaid.

And so, one of these evenings. You took your boyfriend out to hang out at a club with great music.

Umemiya stood leaning on the bar and watched with a smile as you enjoyed the music on the dance floor.

Those two jerks were also standing there.

《 Hey, look at the girlie in a black dress on the dance floor there. She has pretty legs... I bet I'm going to give her a good slap 》

The guy rushed towards you, but a step before the unsuspecting you, someone grabbed him tightly by the scruff of the neck. And then he noticed how several pairs of eyes were staring at him rapaciously, and Hajime towered behind him. It seemed that he was about to crush the boy with his menacing gaze full of contempt.

The poor guys did not suspect that if you hang out in a club, then you are surrounded by your boyfriend and at least two Heavenly Kings of Bofurin.

After 10 minutes, this idiot and his friend were already kneeling outside the clubhouse in front of Umemiya and Hiragi, and swore that they would never even look at girls askance again in their lives. While you, without suspecting anything, continued to dance in the club with Tsubakino.

After this incident, Umemiya increased patrols around such places.

Kaji

The other day, Kaji got 2 tickets to a rock concert by some aspiring band "Kessoku Band". This boy loved noisy places, and you didn't mind. So in the evening you went to the semi-basement concert hall together.

You had a great time enjoying the sound of rock music, and then there was a 10-minute break between songs, during which everyone bought drinks, talked, and so on. Kaji was buying 2 glasses of fruit juice for you when he heard a strange guy talking on the phone next to him.

《 Yes, I have already found the right chick. I'm going to give her alcohol to drink and have fun with her tonight. Huh, yeah, as usual, dude. All right, bye, I'm off 》

The vein on Kaji's forehead had already started to swell from hearing the disgusting idea, and when that asshole moved in your direction, Ren lost all control. The glasses of juice he bought for you crashed loudly on the floor.

You heard a loud noise from the crowd, but when you came up, the guy lying on the floor under Kaji already looked more like minced meat than a person. You had to pull your boyfriend away from that guy so Ren wouldn't kill him.

Is it worth saying that you are now banned from that concert hall? However, Kaji has never regretted what he did. He's ready to kill anyone who's going to hurt you.

Nirei

After the exams, the Furin members decided to celebrate at the club. You were relaxing with them, finishing off a sweet milkshake. After active brain work and a little stress, you wanted more sweets.

《 One more milkshake, please 》

After making a request to the bartender, you were distracted by some noise from your group. It looks like Sakura and Sugishita started showing their fangs to each other again and you headed towards them before this catfight blew up the whole club.

At this time, the bartender placed your order on the countertop and your sweet drink, decorated with whipped cream and a cherry on top, was waiting for your return.

At this moment, Nirey, who was actively writing something down in his notebook, looked up and there was such a picture in front of him: two strange guys approach the steam counter and one of them quickly pours some powder into a glass, and then both retire from the crime scene.

Nirei immediately tensed up. For this young collector of information, bandit tricks were known, which are popular for industry in places such as clubs and bars. The yellow-haired boy was already heading towards the bar to inform the bartender about what had happened, but when he saw you coming up and taking the drink in your hands, his hair stood on end and he rushed towards you with all speed.

Akihiko literally put his hand between your lips and the glass at the last moment.

《 Y/N, DON'T DRINK!! 》

He was noticeably nervous at that moment. You had to calm him down, and then Nirey told you and the guys from Furin what happened.

Of course, the guys quickly found these scum and handed them over to the guards, not forgetting to leave them a couple of bruises for prevention.

For the rest of the evening, Nirey did not leave your side and brought you drinks himself, carefully watching how they were prepared.

Kiryu

Kiryu invited you to a street fair. There were various counters and stands with geek themes: from games to anime and manga. Different lanterns and garlands, illuminating the evening street with warm light, created a sweet atmosphere. You both enjoyed spending time buying different stuff like key chains with paired characters, stickers, etc.

At some point, Mitsuki went to the bathroom, leaving you at the stand with "Love Is Hard For Otaku"

Standing at the sink, he heard some guys talking from the far corner.

《 Did you see that girl in the blue and white striped skirt? She's pretty. Let's buy her a drink and offer her a ride on a bike. Maybe we'll get something tonight 》

They were definitely talking about the very skirt that Kiryu helped you choose this morning. When these guys came out of the bathroom, he finished washing his hands and followed right behind them.

Making his way through the crowd, Mitsuki saw you with some kind of glass of juice in your hands, talking to those idiots. It seemed like you were trying to politely refuse, but they kept pressing hard.

Suddenly, someone's warm arms wrapped around your waist from behind and Kiryu leaned over your shoulder, drinking from the glass in your hand through a straw.

《 I'm back, love 》

Then he looked up at the annoying guys from under his brows. Mitsuki had the same relaxed expression when viewed at first glance. But your boyfriend wasn't smiling at those two idiots. It was a silent warning.

A cold light flashed in his green eyes.

The two guys hesitated slightly, muttered something, and left dejectedly. You still didn't understand what it was, but after that, you calmly continued your date, enjoying the rest of the evening.

◇ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ◇ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ◇

[redbird-tf]

Im not afraid of you now

Dean winchester x sister reader

Summary: After a failed hunt, a conflict between john and dean reveals y/ns repressed fear of dean and its strain on their bond.

(Summaries suck, i promise the stories better)

Note: inspired by and lyrics used from forward beckoned rebound

Word count: 920

Warnings: john being a bad parent,profanity, aggression, alcohol/drinking

“Fucking disaster” John grumbled stepping into the house followed by all 3 of his kids. It wasn’t often that there was a family hunt, but on the occasion that there was it meant something big was going down. They had tracked a demon through multiple big cities until they could catch up to it in Mississippi. The demon got away, thanks to various mistakes from all parties, though John would never admit to his faults. “Now we’ve got to wait for it to show its face god knows where and when!” John exclaimed throwing his duffle bag to the ground.

Sam clicked his tongue in disbelief before turning to his father. “You think this is all our fault don't you?” Sam furrowed his brows stepping up to John. “Guys, come on..” Dean groaned pinching the bridge of his nose. He was too tired to deal with another catfight. “You were the one who refused to tell us anything about this demon!” Sam yelled pointing his finger at John “i told you what i needed to!” John shouted shoving Sam back. “And you-“John had grabbed your arm as you tried walking past him. “I told you not to move until i called for you” John stated in a stern tone “but Sam needed-“You tried to explain, he didn't care, “i told you not to move!” He inched closer to your face. “Alright enough” Neither of you had seen Dean approaching until he was right in front of you. Dean gripped your upper arm, slightly gentler than John, and pushed you back a few feet behind him.

“I know we screwed up, but don't do this now.” Dean pleaded, he was too exhausted to fight but he wouldn't stand to see his younger siblings be attacked. “What are you doing Dean,” John asked cocking his head to the side “We can talk about this later” Dean explained with heavy eyes. “You trying to play daddy Dean?” He questioned dean. “No sir” he replied blankly “i leave you to take care and train them, not bring them back to me weaker!” John got closer and closer to him with every word. “I said enough!” Dean retaliated. Dean clenched his jaw, there was a moment of silence before John spoke up again “you think you can do it better, but shes just as afraid of you as she is of me” John muttered pointing behind Dean.

Dean turned his head to look at you. He watched your eyes dart from John to him, like a deer caught in headlights. You inhaled sharply, swallowing the lump in your throat along with the shame building inside of you. Dean lowered his head, bumping shoulders with John on his way out the door. You locked eyes with John before muttering out through gritted teeth “You're an asshole” you quickly turned your back making a beeline for your room. Sam tried to hold you, but you pulled away and he didn’t attempt to follow you.

————————————

Your back rested against the backboard of your bed, book in hand while you tried to distract yourself from the guilt pledging your mind, but it was no use. You couldn’t stop seeing the pure hurt on Dean's face. What John said was true, to an extent. You knew dean loved you, but you’ve never been able to cuddle up to him or talk to him like you could with Sam. Not to mention the whole macho man act he constantly put up, you had never thought about it until now. You hadn’t realized that it was all to keep you safe, so you could be emotional and make mistakes. The realization of your brother's sacrifice made you feel so much worse.

Your eyes shoot up to the door hearing it creek open. “Dad?” You called out. “No, just me,” Dean said walking into the room. You watched in silence as he sat at the edge of your bed. he eyed the sheets before his gaze met yours and he breathed out, his breath lined with the scent of whisky as it usually was at this hour. “I'm sorry i scared you earlier” he stated, you stayed silent “i don't ever mean to scare you” his tone was stern yet comforting. “I understand” you whispered so low you don't know if he heard, but he went on with his half-drunken apology “you know, i get it… when you were born, you were an infant, and innocent and i was already this villain and violent guy” he perused his lips together, too far into his mind. “Dean” you placed your hand over his clutched one “I'm not afraid of you now,not anymore” he gave you a small smile.

“May i?” He asked pulling back the sheets. you nodded watching him kick off his shoes and climb in next to you. His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you close as He secured the embrace by clasping his wrist with his other hand. Both arms cradled you now. “Dean…” you mumbled, and you felt his sleepy “mhm” vibrate his chest “thank you…for everything” you whispered as your thumb smoothed his forearm. “Always baby” he pressed his lips to your temple, drifting off while holding you tight.

[hannibalismos-jaaneman]

we, as a fandom, don't talk enough about the fact that hannibal is an absolute boss for sitting there prettily and letting the two people he's enthusiastically fucking have a catfight about getting railed by him at dinner in naka-choko. like, you go girl.

[tossawary]

When writing fanfiction, there are a lot of unknowns surrounding Mobei-Jun that I answer based on what I think is compelling, funny, and/or contrasts well against SQH | Airplane Bro. (Sometimes, based on what contrasts interestingly and/or hilariously against Luo Binghe or Shen Qingqiu.) The choices I make for MBJ also depend on what suits that particular story.

An interesting question: "What kind of literature does Mobei-Jun like?" He's Airplane Bro's Ideal Man / Dream Guy! It's fun to think about what Mobei-Jun's relationship might be to fiction.

One choice that I've pulled a few times now is having Mobei-Jun be functionally illiterate, mostly because I think that situation is an interesting / amusing contrast to the guy who technically wrote the world into existence. Airplane Bro was cranking out thousands of words per day to eat, selling out his honest passion for literature, and Mobei-Jun can't / doesn't read.

There are lots of different potential reasons for this! Maybe Mobei-Jun is dyslexic. Maybe he desperately needs reading glasses and doesn't realize it. (Yes, maybe half of his glaring is just squinting.) Maybe his education was really bad because his family tried to murder him too many times. Maybe he just doesn't have any interest in fiction or in reading as a hobby in general, because paper / writing is rare in the Demon Realm for a variety of reasons and he's been busy building more relevant skills.

(Airplane Bro is shocked and offended, yes, but mostly because Mobei-Jun somehow successfully hid being unable to read from him for two or more decades. All of those "you read it" and "you write it" orders suddenly make so much sense.)

Another direction for "Mobei-Jun's relationship to media" that I've been enjoying lately as a premise is that Mobei-Jun is the sort of person who would have genuinely enjoyed "Proud Immortal Demon Way". But, like, in a weird way. Like, maybe Mobei-Jun isn't there for the women or the power fantasy, but he's fascinated by the cage of dissatisfaction, misery, and cruelty that the protagonist is building around himself using empty pleasures and merciless vengeance. Mobei-Jun is there for the tragedy. Everyone else in the comments section would think that he's a weirdo for different reasons, including Airplane Bro, but Mobei-Jun is (by accident) operating on a level where he sees the vision.

Alternate direction on "Mobei-Jun would like PIDW, actually": maybe he would like it because he actually loves trashy drama and stupid catfights. He's there for the comedy. He grew up in an environment where his father stole his uncle's wife and his own uncle tried to kill him multiple times, after all. In PIDW itself, right-hand man Mobei-Jun somehow successfully suffered years upon years of Luo Binghe's harem nonsense, and maybe Mobei-Jun was having the time of his life watching Sha Hualing start shit in the harem, actually!

Maybe in a Modern AU, Airplane Bro would try to sound intelligent and cultured by talking to his rich boss / boyfriend about classy literature, only to find out that Mobei-Jun basically only watches reality television competitions where people are constantly trying to tear each other's hair out for money. If people aren't screaming in each other's faces over a spilled glass of wine, throwing plates at each other over a stolen boyfriend or a ruined wedding, or backstabbing each other via wardrobe sabotage to get ahead, then Mobei-Jun is bored. Fighting matches or extremely dangerous sports are also fine, though, sure. (Airplane Bro doesn't like any of this stuff. He's a fantasy novel guy. He has no idea how to react to this.)

Another funny direction for "Mobei-Jun's relationship to media" is that maybe "Proud Immortal Demon Way" wouldn't actually be weird ENOUGH for Mobei-Jun's tastes. Maybe Mobei-Jun would be like that guy who claims "if I can guess the twist, then it's not suspense - suspense is when I don't know what's going to happen next, period" and reads long-running, amateur, foreign, abstract web-novels that he has to put through an online translator himself. Maybe in a Modern AU with this opinion, Mobei-Jun loyally watches telenovelas and Bollywood soap operas. Airplane Bro comes into the room and says, "Wow, not even any subtitles? You can understand what they're saying?" and Mobei-Jun says sincerely, "No. You have to figure out what's happening without them. This is the intended viewing experience."

[majesticarlette]

Enemies

Adrien Agreste/Chat Noir x Ladybug!Reader

"Surrender your Miraculous, Chat Noir!" You shouted as you glare at him from above on top of the Eiffel Tower.

"Dream on, Ladybug." He smirked and fires multiple Cataclysms in your direction. You used your yo-yo as a shield to protect yourself and fled the Eiffel Tower.

The city of Paris is once again troubled by a megakuma and after you just de-evilized the butterfly, a wild Chat Noir appeared. It's exhausting to deal with two birds with one stone but it's worth it. He was able to expand his powers, making the fights between you more difficult. He could fire multiple but limited cataclysms now. If he expanded his own powers, you sure also did. It's only fair to fight a lion if you're also a lion.

Chat Noir followed you as you escape the Eiffel Tower. Fortunately, he isn't as sharp as a knife, and with your street-smarts, you were able to lose him.

"This is taking too long, I have a date later." You groaned and you activated your second lucky charm, and it gave you a superglue. At this point, you're not going to question how it is used, but to figure out what to do about it fast.

You came back to where the fight was and scanned the environment, and you didn't spot anything to use the superglue with.

"You sure ain't good at hiding, huh, Ladybug?" You turned around and saw Chat spinning his baton, and you finally knew how to end this thing at once.

"Eh, you didn't even catch up to me given your cat abilities. Lame." You rolled your eyes trying to provoke him. He charges at you, and you two get into a fight worse than a catfight.

You love angering the cat in front of you, and the way he's slowly losing his cool from you dodging his scratches satiates an itch in your brain. You don't really hate him in the beginning, you actually wanted to cooperate with this kitty but something about the two of you just don't click. He doesn't plan his punches, he's impulsive, arrogant, doesn't like getting told what to do, and claiming he's a solo flight in fights.

Even actual cats don't behave this way, they won't exert much energy for this crap. Ugh!

Chat Noir growls and starts exerting more strength in his moves trying to bring you down.

"Oh... I see sweat, Kitty. Are you having a hard time? You think you're the only cat who's gonna lose to a bug?" You laugh earning a yell of rage from him. At this point in the fight, you're just dodging his offenses and waiting for a sign to use your lucky charm.

"You think you're all that?! You can't even defeat the megakuma by yourself!"

"Please, you think you did anything? You acted like a cat who broke a glass and thinks he did something great. In short you made it way worse!" He managed to scratch your suit earning a clean incision on your arm. You flinched at the sensation and let out a gasp.

Distracted, Chat Noir took this advantage to reach his staff from behind. He extended it to knock you out of the fight.

You flew from the impact and held onto his staff. You groaned from the pain and checked yourself from any more damages. As you were standing up, Chat Noir used his extended staff to knock you out of your balance, once again falling on your ass.

He chuckled at your state retracting his staff. "You think highly of yourself--"

"And you don't?!--" You hiss

"Shh! I'm talking!" He glared at you. "This is why you're so hard to deal with, you're so stubborn!" As he was about to rant his troubles about you, he saw you wiping blood from your injured arm. His eyes grew wide, did he cause this? If he did... Why would he even care? You deserved it! You don't believe in him! Is it deep, though? It might get infected...

He shook his thoughts and tried to put his staff back but it won't budge. He furrowed his eyebrows and held onto the other end to try and get it off the other but both ended up stuck. He groans in annoyance while putting much force to get it off, yet no luck.

You laughed at the scene and stood from where you were. "I told you, you don't plan ahead. I guess curiosity really killed the cat." You used your yo-yo strings to wrap around his ankles and yanked him up on the street lamp.

"Admit defeat?" You held up the super glue you used on his staff and pinched the cheeks of his upside down face. He only furrowed his brows further. "You know your face could get stuck on that expression--" As things were getting your way, beeping was heard from the two of you. "Not now!" You retracted your yo-yo from him. "This isn't over!" You ran away, leaving him on his own.

You let out a sigh after de-transforming back to your civilian self. You were exhausted from fighting two people today. Why can't Chat Noir surrender his miraculous so you can give it to the person who deserves it, like Marinette! Why did Master Shifu give it to him to begin with?

Your thoughts were interrupted when your phone was alarmed. "Oh, no! I totally forgot!" You really need to have a hero/life balance, how will you get to know your other half if you always prioritize hero duties?

You ran your heart out to the park to meet your date today. Panting, you scanned the area to see any signs of him but he was nowhere to be seen. Yeah, he already went home, it's really rude to make your date wait for a while, he might've felt embarrassed.

Sighing for the second time, you turned around and decided to walk home. "(Y/n)! Wait!" The familiar voice alerted you and looked around for the source, and there you saw him, Adrien. He was running towards you.

"I'm sorry, I was late! We hid from the megakuma and only stepped out when it was clear." He panted, catching his breath. Yeah, you and Chat Noir really contributed to his lateness.

"Are you okay? Were you hurt from the villain?" He cupped your cheeks checking you for any injuries.

"N-no! I'm fine, really!" You tucked your hair behind your ear, feeling flustered by his presence.

Little did you know, Adrien noticed your arm injury. It's really identical to what he did to Ladybug.

Yeah, you did not only forget one thing.

[dianawinchester03]

Juvenile Delinquent

Series Masterlist

Summary: After standing up for herself and Sammy in a catfight with her fellow cheer captain, Y/N finds herself in a bit of a pickle.

(Y/N and Sam are 17 years old and Dean is 21 years old)

BASED ON:

The Old Testament Series.

Genesis Primis: A Supernatural Rewrite (Dean Winchester x Reader) by @dianawinchester03

🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔

Third Person POV

Sioux Falls High, South Dakota

•September 2000

Senior year was probably the most dreadful year in high-school history. John and F/N decided to let Sam and Y/N finish their senior year in Sioux Falls High, leaving Dean in charge for most of the year. They would pop in and out after hunts but would hit the road after getting a trail on another.

It was the start of the school year, Sam was eating lunch in the cafeteria with Y/N while the members of the cheer squad Y/N with in were giggling and pointing at their table.

"You can go sit with your friends you know, y/n" Sam sighed, stabbing his unappetizing meatloaf with his fork. His head bowed.

"I am, now shut up and eat your fake meat" Y/N rolled her eyes, tightening her ponytail.

Sam's eyes glanced down at her orange and black uniform, a playful smirk on his face. "I still can't believe you joined the cheer squad" He snorted.

"Hey, don't judge me dipshit, it's fun. It's why I've been telling your giant ass to join the football team" Y/N huffed in mock offense, tossing a croton at her best-friend.

"Oh hell no crackhead, you couldn't pay me enough to play football" Sam laughed, dodging the flying food. 

"Why? You have the shoulders for it" Y/N teased, raising her brow. "And I have the brains for Stanford, not for football" Sam shot back, sticking out his tongue.

Y/N threw her head back laughing at this, "Alright college boy" She snickered, "So, Stanford. You made up your mind on it?" She asked with a small smile, her eyes flickered over to her cheerleader "friends" who were staring at them intently.

Y/N noticed Stella Luther, captain of the squad, eyes were trained directly at her with a smirk.

Sam noticed Y/N tense and look past him, a slight frown on his face. He looked over his shoulder, seeing the bitchy look on Stella's face. Stella was the worst. He let out an annoyed sigh, turning back to Y/N. "Yeah, my application is all sent in, just waiting to hear back from 'em".

"I'm sure you'll get in, Sammy. And I'm also sure you gave them the best essay your big brain could muster up" She said encouragingly. "Ha, ha" Sam retorted sarcastically. "Seriously, you think I stand a chance?"

He honestly didn't know how much of a chance he had at getting into Stanford. He just wanted to get away from hunting. Away from the life his dad so desperately wanted for him.

John and F/N were on his ass constantly for ditching hunts. For not wanting to be in this life.

He was tired.

Y/N on the other hand didn't mind it, having gotten used to the life but that doesn't mean she didn't have a hard time with her old man.

"Hey babe" A voice behind Y/N quipped up, making her jump. "Xander" She breathed out relieved when her boyfriend, Alexander, laid a kiss on her cheek, sitting next to her before giving Sam a bro-fist bump.

"Sup man" Sam returned the fistbump with a nod.

He was fine with Xander, having been around him the most. He was a nice guy, smart and sweet, not a douche like the other football players.

Sam watched as Xander slung his arm over Y/N's shoulders. A small smile spreading in his face, happy to see his bestfriend had gotten someone who seemed to truly care for her.

Part of Sam wished Y/N would stay with Alexander and decide to settle down in the apple pie life but he knew she didn't want that ... .with Alex at least.

"So, what're you two ladies gossiping about over here," Xander asked, wrapping his arm tighter around a smiling Y/N. Sam chuckled, rolling his eyes. "We're just talking about the fact that Y/N is in the cheer squad"

Y/N tossed another crouton at Sam's head, "Stop shitting on my fun"

"Cheer's a lot of fun," Alexander said, "And my girl looks hot in the uniform"

Sam almost threw up in his mouth. He'd rather not think about Y/N in the tight, short skirt.

"You look smokin' in that thing" Xander winked. "Oh shut it" Y/N blushed, pushing at Xander's shoulder. Sam suddenly became very interested in his cold meatloaf. "So, how was practice?" Y/N asked her boyfriend, sipping her chocolate milk.

"Oh," Xander let out an exhausted huff. "The coach laid down the law, apparently some guys have been slacking off during scrimmage's and he's not pleased about it. We're apparently going to be doing drills and conditioning all week. The coach won't let me up until I'm puking my guts out"

"Oh, poor baby. It must be so hard to jog around in the hot sun" Y/N said with mock pity in her voice, patting her poor boyfriend's cheek.

"Hey, it's not just jogging, babe. It's tackling and throwing balls at each other in this hot ass weather" Xander complained.

"I know sweetie, I'm just pulling your leg. Why don't you come over today after practice? My dad and Sam's dad won't be back from hu-...work until tomorrow" Y/N suggested, almost saying the word 'hunt'. Internally cursing at herself for the slip up.

Xander's face lit up at the invitation. "Really?" He asked hopefully, pulling Y/N closer to him. Sam had to keep from rolling his eyes, not having to listen to a full night of their nauseating lovey dovey crap.

"Sam, you think Dean's gonna yap to our dads?" Y/N turned to her best friend. "You have nothing to worry about" Sam assured her, waving his hand in a dismissive motion, "Dean isn't that much of a tattle tale".

"I don't know...he didn't sit on the porch with a baseball bat on our first date" Alexander said warily, grimacing at the memory. "That's cause he's an overly protective pain in my ass" Y/N muttered, shoving another crouton into her mouth angrily.

Sam chuckled at her annoyance with his brother. He had a fair mind that Dean and Y/N had crushes on each other but would never in a million years act on it.

"I won't be at my Uncle Bobby's though. I'll be here..." Y/N told Xander, writing down the address to their house in Lake Preston, not too far from Sioux Falls.

A presence behind Y/N becomes known when the sound of a throat clearing is welcomed into their ears as she handed Xander the paper.

They turned around to see none other than Stella.

The captain of the cheer squad stood behind them all, one hand on her hip cocked to the side, the other occupied by a carton of chocolate milk.

Stella Luther was definitely a looker, her long, golden hair always seemed perfectly curled and her emerald eyes sparkled with arrogance. She seemed to have something against Y/N, always glaring at the younger girl.

"Hi, Alex" Stella said to Y/N's boyfriend in an overly-exaggerated high pitched tone. But the footballer looked uninterested.

"Yeah, hey" Xander returned her greeting with a dismissive tone.

It was no secret that Stella had been trying to woo him away from Y/N with subtle flirting and a show of a bit of skin. He just chose to ignore her advances.

Sam had to chuckle at the annoyed look on Y/N's face as she narrowed her eyes at Stella's overly done up form.

Stella didn't look happy that he didn't swoon at her greeting. Her eyes left the teen and settled on Y/N.

"I don't understand why you two are sitting at the losers table" Stella scoffed, nodding her head towards Sam with a nasty glare.

Stella turned her gaze from Y/n to Sam, a sly smirk plastered on her face. Sam mentally groaned knowing what was coming when he say Y/N's jaw clench and her nostrils flare.

She turned around in the circular table, tossing her legs over to face the bitch. Ready to maul her for insulting Sam. "Excuse me?" Y/N bit out, her face heated.

Oh, boy. Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. This was getting interesting and all eyes were now locked in them, waiting to see what was going to happen.

"What, just because you captain our team you think you can walk over everyone? Jesus, sister. You've been watching too much chick flicks" Y/N defended, standing up to get in Stella's face.

Stella put her arms on her hips and gave Y/N a condescending look, towering over her with her 5"7 stature.

"I'm the captain because I'm the best. And I'm not being cocky when I say that, if you were any good, you'd be the captain" Stella smirked.

Stella and Y/N were nose to nose, both girls were fuming with anger. Xander and Sam were tensed up. Xander was ready to hold his girlfriend back if she tried to get a swing in.

"Oh sweetie, if being captain meant I had to be like your perky ass. I would gladly join the chess club!" Y/N practically shouted as Stella gripped her chocolate milk in her hand.

Her eyes flickered over to Y/N's black leather jacket she had sat next to her on the bench.

"You may have made the squad. and god himself alone knows how" Stella chuckled darkly. "But at least I'm not some goth reject with daddy issues who's trying to play cheerleader" Stella snapped back, tossing her head as she sneered at Y/N.

Yup, Y/N was definitely gonna go for a swing. Xander was quick to wrap his arm around Y/N's middle. Blocking her path to Stella.

Stella cackled manically at this, an idea flashing in her head, she looked at the milk in her hand and back to Y/N's leather jacket. A smirk rising on her face.

"Don't. You. Dare" Y/N gritted out, trying to tug out of Xander's grip. Not liking the look on Stella's face at all. But the warning came too late, Stella had already poured the liquid on the leather. A cruel smirk on her face. "Oops" Stella said faux innocently, sticking out her bottom lip in a mock pout.

"You DEAD BITCH!!" Y/N immediately broke out of Xander's grip, leaving him surprised because he was much bigger and stronger. The adrenaline pumping through her veins at the sight of her jacket getting drenched with the chocolate milk.

She pounced on Stella in seconds, putting all of her mere strength into the way her fist connected with her jaw, repeatedly. Her knuckles bruised with each punch before gripping Stella by her hair and slamming it into the floor.

Xander's eyes widened in shock when Y/N slipped out of his grip. He was frozen like the other students watching the beat down about to happen.

Sam's eyes were just as shocked as Xander's, he watched as Y/N attacked the older girl. He should be stopping this but Stella totally deserved it.

"Y/N, stop!" Xander shouted, watching his once sweet girlfriend turn into a raging monster. He attempted to tear her from Stella's grip but her fingers her tangled in the bleach blonde locks of her head.

Stella's once perfectly done up face was now covered in blood and swelling. It was a wonder she was conscious after all the blows that had been dealt to it. The captain's nose was definitely broken, blood gushing from both nostrils, her caked makeup smeared from all the blood and tears running down her face.

Xander and Sam were desperately trying to get Y/N off of the barely conscious Stella. Xander was trying his hardest to pull at Y/N while Sam attempted to pry her hands from the girl's blood soaked hair. It was like she was in a trance, fueled by anger and adrenaline.

Not only did she destroy her perfectly good and expensive jacket, but she was insulting Sammy. Causing the rage in her to snap. "Goddamn it!" Sam gasped out as he tugged at her wrists in vain, "Y/N, stop! You're gonna get expelled, maybe even arrested for this!"

Xander finally decided to get physical this time with all his strength he could muster up. Throwing his arms around her waist with the help of Sam, they pulled her away from the bloody mess that was once the captain.

She was still struggling against their holds, practically foaming at the mouth at this point. They finally gripped the angered teen girl, both boys holding her tightly with all their might as Y/N kicked and screamed.

"LET ME GO! I'M NOT FINISHED WITH HER ASS!" Y/N shrieked, kicking and screaming against the two boys' hold on her.

The cafeteria was in a state of shock, watching as Y/N nearly went feral on one of the most popular girls in school.

"Y/N!" Sam all but yelled at her, "Snap out of it, you're not gonna get yourself arrested for this! She's not worth it!" He hated seeing her like this. Usually, she is so controlled and gentle. But right now all he is seeing is a beast, ready to kill.

Y/N felt like she was losing her mind. The adrenaline was fueling her rampage while Xander and Sam, who she would normally listen to were the devil's advocates.

"She ruined my. FUCKING. JACKET! And she deserves worse for all the shit she's said to you!" Y/N snapped at her best friend, thrashing in their hold on her.

"It's just a jacket!" Sam yelled back at her, just trying to get through to her but she wasn't listening, "She's not worth getting expelled over!"

"I'm not going to have you go to jail because you decided to assault another student, Y/N!" Sam said firmly, pushing down the anger in his chest.

He loved his best friend with all his heart but there was no way in hell was he going to let her end up in some jail cell because of a stupid high school girl.

Xander had never seen Y/N like this before, she scared him. Her eyes were blazing, teeth gnashed. She was like an animal.

"Baby, please. I'm begging. Relax!!" Xander begged, gripping onto his feral girlfriend. Hearing her boyfriend's pleading tone seemed to slow her down a bit. His worried tone caused a pang of guilt to shoot through her.

She was breathing heavily through her nose like she had just run a hundred miles. Her body was still shaking in anger.

Looking around at the aftermath she had done, all the stares and the blood on her hands. Y/N finally seemed to come back down to reality, realization dawning on her.

"What's going on here?!" The principal's voice boomed in the cafeteria, weeding his way through the dozens of students who were surrounding them, taking pictures and recording with the cameras and camcorders.

The principal marched through the crowd, a horrified look on his face at the sight before him. The captain of the cheer squad laid on the ground, bloodied and bruised while the school's sweetheart seemed to be held back by two football players.

"Well I never-" the Principal sputtered out, staring at the scene before him.

"Principal Adams. S-she started it. She jumped me because I accidentally knocked chocolate milk on her jacket" Stella lied through her bloodied teeth, pointing an accusing finger at Y/N.

Causing the teenage hunter to rile up once again.

Y/N saw red once again, straining against Sam and Xander's restraint.

"Are you serious!?" Y/N shouted at her, "That's an outright lie!" Y/N roared, struggling against the boys' grip, "She's been picking on Sam all year and she ruined my jacket!"

"I should have done more to you, you lying ska-!"

Xander quickly slapped his hand over his girlfriends mouth, stopping her from saying the words she was about to spit at the older girl.

The Principal stared at Y/N with shock written on his face. The student who was nothing but kind and respectful to both teachers and other students. He never would have expected her to do something like this.

He turned his attention to Stella, the girl also had a good record. Never getting in trouble with any one before.

"Is this true?" Principal Adams asked her, glancing between the two girls.

"Yes, principal" Stella lied through her teeth, making herself look as pitiful as she can.

Y/N's muffled screams roared through Xander's hand covering her mouth, attempted to rip away from their grips but Sam knew better and tugged the girl back.

"All due respect sir, she's lying!" Sam practically shouted at the principal. The principal held up a hand signaling for him to be quiet.

His eyes flicked between the four students standing before him, a frustrated look on his face. The whole scene was like some messed up high school drama.

Xander and Sam were still restraining Y/N, keeping her arms held with a vice like grip. Sam's grip tightening on her arms to keep her from struggling.

The Principal pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, "I don't know which one of you is actually telling the truth..." Stella looked smug, thinking she was about to get off scot-free once again while Y/N looked incensed and Sam and Xander held a look of disbelief on their faces.

"My office, all of you. NOW!" Principal Adam's barked at them. "You two" Adam's pointed to the two boys from Xander's team who were helping Stella up. "Take her to the nurses, but after she's patched up and taken care of. Bring her to me" He ordered the footballers before marching to his office.

"Yes, sir!" The two football players said in unison, both of them grabbing the captain, throwing Stella's arms over their shoulders and practically carrying the wounded girl towards the nurses office. One of them threw Y/N a dirty look as they started escorting the blonde to the nurses' office.

"Eat shit, Carter!!" Y/N growled at the boy shooting her a dirty look. Carter, the tall and muscular boy whipped his head around and gave Y/N a scowl. He would love to give the feisty girl a taste of her own medicine.

"I hope they throw your ass behind bars where you belong" he retorted back at her. Carter sneered at her. "I've never got what Alex sees in you anyways. The chick's crazy" he snapped at her before continuing his escort of the wounded girl.

Xander shot him a warning glare, "Why don't you do what she said, dickhead!" Xander roared as him and Sam escorted Y/N to the principal's office.

Y/N attempted to lunge at Carter as they walked past her, spitting profanities and threats to the boys as Xander and Sam dragged her and held her by the arms to the office, if they let her go. She would've gotten her ass handed to her by the team.

"YOU WEREN'T SAYING THAT WHEN YOU WERE TRYING TO GET INTO MY PANTS YOU WALKING TROPHY CABINET-!" Y/N screeched at him.

"God, please shut up!" Xander pleaded. This was definitely going to be a long day.

-

They finally made it into the principal's office. After he had shut his door. The principal gestured for the four teens to sit down as he took his place at his desk, looking very tired. Sam and Xander sat at the ends while Stella sat next to y/n, holding an ice pack over her nose, dramatically sobbing.

Though, her sobbing might be real with the damage y/n had done to her face.

The principal looked between the four students before he leaned back in his chair, "I'm going to listen to each one of your accounts. One at a time." he said, staring directly at Y/N. "You," He said, gesturing at Y/N "First."

"I was eating lunch with Sam and Xander when out of nowhere this ska-" Y/N bit back her words, realizing she was not only slut shaming another girl. Another annoying girl.

But she was also contradicting herself. She took a deep breath. "Stella" She gritted her teeth. "Came up to our table and started throwing insults at us unprovoked. Then when I stood up for us" She gestured between Sam and herself.

"She dumped chocolate milk on my very expensive and sentimental leather jacket" Y/N finished her explanation of her side of the story.

The principal nodded thoughtfully as he listened to Y/N's story. He took note that it had been Stella who had provoked them both.

He looked at Stella, "Now I want you to tell me your side of the story, Ms. Luther." he said to the girl, staring intently at her.

Stella slowly reached up to remove the ice pack from her face. Her nose was red and swollen. Her eyes were watering as she looked at the principal, "Y/N has had it out for me for a long time." Stella began, her eyes flickering to the girl next to her.

Y/N brows furrowed at this in disbelief because it was quite the opposite and the other way around, she crossed her arms over her chest as she listed to the made up story.

Stella continued, her crocodile tears falling from her face, "She's always been jealous of me because of my popularity. And for some reason she hates that Xander is my boyfriend." She said gesturing at the football player who sat stiffly in his chair.

"No, he's my boyfriend you desperate homewrecking b-!" Y/N roared once again but Xander, again, slapped the palm of his hand over her mouth.

The Principal held up a hand at Y/N once again and she stopped speaking when he gave her a warning glare as he turned his attention back to Stella.

"Let her finish Ms. L/N" He scolded her before his eyes returned to Stella, "You may continue, Ms. Luther." He said, gesturing for her to finish. Stella gave the seething Y/N a smug look before she continued her story. "Like I said" she said, returning her attention to the Principal.

"Y/N has been jealous of me since the beginning of the year. She's just been looking for a way to snap on me, and today she just so happened to get her wish." A look of confusion flashed across the principal's face, before he looked warily Y/N while she seethed. The look in her eyes made him uneasy.

Like she was a caged animal ready to jump.

The principal turned his attention to Xander, "Mr. Thompson, I'd like to hear your side of the story." He said, turning his gaze towards the football player. Xander shifted in his seat, the look of disbelief still on his face. He was in total awe that Stella thought the principal would believe her bullshit story.

"It's exactly like Y/N said, sir. She was picking on us at the table, just trying to be some bully." The principal looked at Xander for a few moments, before he turned to look at Sam.

"Mr. Winchester, I want to hear your side of the story" He said, staring at the boy. Sam's eyes darted up from his desk, swallowing nervously. He was a straight A student so being called up to the principal's office was definitely out of the norm.

Sam shifted in his seat and shot Stella a glare before he began his account of the story. "Well," He started, the words catching in his throat. "They're telling the truth. She was picking on us."

"Stella has been picking on me for most of the school year because I keep turning her friends down when they ask me out." He said, looking at her. "She didn't like that I was rejecting so she's been trying to humiliate me."

He put up a finger before adding, "And, she's always had it out for y/n. Constantly to get into Alex's pants and steal him away from her"

A look of shock flashed across the principal's face once again. He never would have expected that, especially from a girl like Stella. "I've called all your parents" Principal Adam's informed them.

This made Sam and Y/N's eyes bulge out of their sockets. "WHAT?!" They both exclaimed in unison, terrified at the wrath they gonna face with their fathers already.

They're supposed to keep a low profile but Y/N's tussle with the cheerleading captain is gonna make steam come barreling out of their ears.

Both Sam and Y/N tried to calm their rapid breathing, imagining the ass whooping they would receive when they got home.

The principal let out a sigh and leaned back into his chair. He pinched the bridge of his nose while he rubbed his temples, he was getting a headache. "Winchester, Thompson. You two may leave" Adam's pointed to the door.

Xander and Sam shared a look, both confused why they were being dismissed. They turned to look at the principal then to Y/N.

"Um... what?" Xander asked. Both boys were looking at the principal dumbfounded. The principal pinched the bridge of his nose, "Just leave the room. This discussion is between Ms. L/N and Ms. Thompson" he told them, gesturing towards the door.

"Oh, okay." Xander said, pushing himself from his chair alongside Sam. Sam's eyes met Y/N's, a look of concern on the boys face. She gave him a nod of reassurance but Y/N looked frightened, sitting alone with the principal and Stella.

Xander and Sam nodded to the principal before they left the office, shutting the door behind them. Leaving Y/N alone with the principal and Stella.

Stella looked at Y/N from her chair, a smug look on her face. Y/N felt like spitting in her face.

The door opened again a couple of seconds later and in walked Stella's mother who let out a dramatic gasp upon seeing her daughters bruised face. Her father walking in with a stern yet uninterested expression.

"Oh my God!" Stella's mother exclaimed dramatically rushing over to her daughter, crouching down beside her chair and examining the damage done to her face. Y/N rolled her eyes at how much Stella's mom sounded like her.

Stella's father just stood there and observed the scene quietly. A look of irritation on his face, and his eyes kept flickering over to Y/N.

The principal sighed before looking at the two adults, "Please, take a seat" he gestured to the other chairs in front of his desk.

Both parents sit down next to their daughter, Stella's mother still fussing over her daughters face while her father watched Y/N intently.

Both cheerleaders leaned back into their seats, Stella resting the ice pack on her nose again while Y/N sat with her arms crossed. Not nearly as bruised as Stella who got one or two hits in, but it was nothing compared to what Y/N got on her.

Principal Adam's cleared his throat to get everyone's attention. He opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Mrs. Luther's screeching voice.

"This student assaulted our daughter because she's jealous!" Mrs. Luther exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Y/N. "Your daughter is an attention seeking whore! Maybe you should tell her to don't fuck with other peoples things or family!" Y/N shot up from her seat.

Mr. and Mrs. Luther's jaws dropped upon hearing the language used. They couldn't believe the vile words coming from the mouth of a 17 year old girl.

Meanwhile Stella looked like she was going to explode with anger. "All due respect, Mr. Adams. You wanna expel me sir? You ahead! Because I am done dealing with the bullshit Stella puts me through on a daily! She acts like she's in some kind of chick flick! It's beyond ridiculous!"

"How dare you!" Stella exclaimed, shooting to her feet but was shoved back down in the chair by her father's huge hand.

The principal leaned back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. He did not understand how a simple squabble between two students became this messed up. He rubbed his temples and sighed, "Please, let me speak" he said, looking up at Y/N.

"I should have you arrested!" Stella's mom piped up. "Oh my God" The principal mumbled to himself, trying to fight back the headache that was starting to build up in the back of his head.

"Mrs. Luther please," The principal said with a stern voice "If you don't let me speak, you can leave." he said, shooting her a warning look.

Stella's mother looked affronted that she was reprimanded by the school's principal, but fell quiet.

"No one is getting arrested, ma'am" he said, his eyes flickering up to Stella's mother, "And Ms. L/N, please sit down" Principal Adam's said, gesturing to her seat.

Y/N huffed angrily and sat back down in her seat.

"This is the third time this month I've had this pair in my office!" He told the two parents, "This is turning into a big headache and I'm tired of it"

Mrs. Luther was busy coddling her daughter and Stella's father was busy staring a hole into Y/N's skull.The principal was growing frustrated with the situation. The parents and the two girls didn't make it any easier.

The tension filling the office was thick, and there was an uncomfortable atmosphere and silence until Principal Adam's started to speak again. "I just don't understand why you two don't get along. You're both very popular, and both have a lot of friends."

Stella's face twisted into a smirk. As if the answer was obvious. But before she could even speak up with an explanation, Y/N's own voice cut through.

"Well," Y/N chuckled darkly, "Maybe it's because she's a raging brat." Stella opened her mouth once again to respond but her father shot her a glare which made her close her mouth.

Principal Adam's shook his head, "Well, whatever the reason is for your constant fighting, I'd like it to end... for good." he said sternly.

He looked at both girls, "I've already taken the liberty of informing your parents about this little... 'incident'."

"I got onto your father but he said he won't be home from his business trip until tomorrow so he's sent your guardian Dean Winchester to pick you up" Adams informed Y/N.

"He's not my guardian" Y/N grumbled, more worried about the fact that she's gonna have to face her father tomorrow.

The principal shot Y/N a disapproving look upon hearing her grumble. He did not like the defiant tone in the girl's voice.

“Nevertheless, he is on his way.” The older man said. “And I have a feeling he is not exactly happy.”

Y/N chuckled darkly again, "Oh, you'd be surprised" She quipped, knowing that once she explained the situation to Dean, he'd probably be twice as pissed and proud of whooping the girl's ass.

The principal raised his eyebrows at her comment but chose to ignore it.

Suddenly, the office door slammed open, revealing Dean Winchester standing in the doorway.

He was wearing his usual attire, jeans, work boots, plaid shirt and his brown leather jacket paired a grumpy look on his face. His face darkened when he saw the two girls.

Stella's parents scoffed upon seeing the elder Winchester. Stella's father muttered something under his breath. Something along the lines of "That's her guardian?" In a judgmental tone, making Y/N shoot daggers at him, her jaw clenching because Dean was just her friend.

The principal stood from his chair and smiled politely at Dean as he said, "Mr. Winchester. Thank you for coming so quickly." Dean grunted in response. He didn't return the school's principal's polite smile. The look on his face was anything but friendly.

He looked at the two girls in the chairs. His heart sunk when he saw that Y/N had a bruise forming on her cheek, and her lip was bleeding slightly. Seeing that she had gotten into a fight set off some internal rage inside the elder Winchester.

Dean grunted in response. He didn't return the school's principal's polite smile. The look on his face was anything but friendly.

He looked at the two girls in the chairs. His heart sunk when he saw that Y/N had a bruise forming on her cheek, and her lip was bleeding slightly. Seeing that she had gotten into a fight set off some internal rage inside the elder Winchester.

But when his gaze adverted to Stella, his eyes widened with the damage she had done. Not surprised by the damage but more at the fact that Y/N had gotten that angry to do that to Stella.

That girl must've pushed the wrong buttons this time. Dean thought to himself because Y/N would always rant to him about her crappy encounters with the cheer captain.

The principal cleared his throat, gesturing for Dean to have a seat, "Please take a seat, Mr. Winchester," he said.

Dean ripped his gaze away from the two girls and sat down in the chair next to Y/N, slouching down in his seat and crossing his legs and arms as he waited for the principal to speak.

The principal sat back down into his chair and sighed. It was always a hassle dealing with teenagers.

He looked at Dean, "I'll start with you, Mr. Winchester. I have good news and bad news." he said, his eyes flickering to Y/N for a few seconds.

Dean raised an eyebrow, "Good news?" He said, his tone of voice sarcastic. The principal didn't miss the sarcastic tone, but he chose to ignore it. Dealing with teenagers was never easy. Especially ones who knew no manners.

"Yes, good news. Ms. Luther here was the instigator" The principal said, gesturing towards Stella who looked offended that he was pinning the blame on her.

"Excuse me!" Stella's mother exclaimed, standing from her chair. "Stella was just the victim! That girl assaulted her for no reason."

"Yeah because I'd so wanna attack Baywatch and get expelled for NO REASON!" Y/N quipped sarcastically. Stella's parents scowled at Y/N for her response, meanwhile Dean was biting his tongue to keep from chuckling.

That's my girl. He thought to himself.

Mr. Adams shot Y/N a disapproving look, not at all amused with her smart mouth, and then looked at Stella's parents.

"If you'd please sit down" he said gesturing to them. They both sat down, their faces now red with anger at Y/N.

The older man cleared his throat. "As I was saying. Ms. Luther was the instigator..."

"...And Ms. L/N was the one who responded with violence." He finished his sentence.

Dean didn't move a muscle or say anything while he listened to the principal's words.

Stella huffed angrily and sat back in her chair, but her mother was not at all happy with the way the principal pinned the blame on her daughter.

"And her parents would like to press charges" Adams added. A look of annoyance flashed across Dean's face upon hearing that.

He sat up straighter in his chair, his voice gruff as he spoke, "Press charges for what? The girl's got a busted lip and a bruised cheek. That she damn well deserved?" Dean scoffed.

Stella's parents were outraged hearing this, hearing Dean speak like that in front of a school official. "Exactly" Mrs. Luther exclaimed. "Our daughter was attacked! She deserves compensation!"

"Sure, why don't you send me a bill for her nose job repair! Wouldn't want to botch a perfectly good rhinoplasty" Y/N growled, the anger making her tongue grow more loose.

Dean clenched his jaw, his grip on the arms of the chair turned tighter, trying his best to prevent himself from laughing out loud.

It was getting harder and harder for Dean to hold back his smirk at the girl's snarky responses. The sarcasm flowing from her mouth was the icing on the cake.

Meanwhile Stella's parents looked like they were about to explode, their faces turning red with anger. The principal took a deep breath to calm himself down. Dealing with teenagers was truly a hassle. Especially ones with mouthy attitudes.

"Please, lets keep this civil" Principal Adams said as he looked at Y/N, trying to get her to stop with the smartass comments. Principal Adams raised his hand to stop Y/N before she said anything else that could make the parents of the bruised girl react in an even more hostile manner.

"There will be no need for compensation" he assured them. "The school will take responsibility for this situation." Mr. and Mrs. Luther looked relieved hearing that, their anger subsided from the words of the schools principal.

Dean looked surprised, he wasn't expecting that at all. He expected the principal to take Stella's parents' side, since this school was known to do anything to protect their reputation.

"Now for the bad news." Principal Adams continued. The two parents gave him a quizzical look. "Since this is the third time this month that Ms. L/N and Ms. Luther have gotten into a fight, both of them will be suspended for a week."

Stella's parents looked satisfied upon hearing the part about Y/N being suspended. But they were clearly against the idea of their daughter being suspended.

"A WEEK?!" They exclaimed simultaneously. "Can't you at least reduce the time?" Mrs. Luther asked with pleading eyes. "Unfortunately, no." Principal Adams said. "The school has a zero-tolerance policy regarding school fights. If either one of them gets into another fight, I will be forced to expel both of them."

The principal's tone was firm, leaving no room for argument.

Stella's parents' faces fell upon hearing the principal. They looked like they were going to say something else, but Dean's voice cut through the room instead.

"Alright, good," Dean said in a somewhat sarcastic tone. The way he said it told the principal that he was eager to get his friend and get the hell out of that place.

Principal Adams nodded at the elder Winchester, not liking the sarcastic tone he had used. "Is that all?" Dean asked. "Actually, Mr. Winchester, there's one more thing" The older man said while reaching for something on his desk.

Dean raised his eyebrows but remained quiet and waited for him to continue. The principal picked up a slip of paper from his desk and placed it on the desk, pushing it over to Dean.

"I'm sure you're familiar with the mandatory sign out sheet in case of suspension" Principal Adams said."Oh lord" Y/N groaned, sinking into her seat.

"Calm down, princess" Dean muttered to her before turning the principal, taking the sheet from his hands. The corner of Dean's mouth tugged up into a smirk as he reached out to grab the form.

"Yeah, I'm very familiar" he joked. Dean grabbed a pen from the principal's desk and scrawled his signature on the line at the bottom of the paper. The signature looked sloppy but the principal didn't say anything about it.

Dean handed the pen back to the principal and handed him the signed paper, "All set" he said as he shifted back into his chair, getting ready to leave. "Let's go, sweetheart" He grabbed Y/N gently by her wrist before escorting her out of the office.

Stella's parents looked relieved to see the two leave the office, while Stella still seemed upset and frustrated.

Principal Adams watched as the pair left the room. He had been principal at this school for over 20 years but the antics of the elder Winchester and Y/N L/N were the one thing that made his head hurt.

-

Sam was slouched on a chair outside the principals office, twiddling his thumbs nervously as he waited on Dean and Y/N to leave the office.

After what seemed like an eternity, the door to the office opened and out walked Dean, his hand gently wrapped around Y/N's wrist.

Sam immediately shot up from his seat and rushed towards them. "Are you suspended?" Sam asked worriedly.

"Yeah" Y/N responded with an irritated tone. Sam looked worried and looked over at Dean, who was still holding Y/N's wrist. "For how long?" He asked.

"A damn week" Y/N grumbled.

Dean glanced down at her, his eyes flickering from her face to the bruise on her cheek. "Lucky it wasn't longer" he said, his tone serious.

"Don't you give me that tone, Winchester" She snapped, "You know fellas know damn well the bitch was begging for it" Sam's eyes widen with shock while Dean simply chuckled. Y/N's ability to mouth off never failed to amuse him.

"Can we just go home? I think I just lost my boyfriend and daddy is gonna kill me" She slumped her shoulders, tears welling up in her eyes as the situation settled in.

Xander had seen her in a bad state and her father is gonna have her in an even worse state when he comes back from his hunt.

Sam and Dean shared a worried look as they watched Y/N's shoulders slump and her eyes start to tear up.

"Yeah, sure." Dean assured her before guiding her out to the parking lot, his hand still on her wrist. Dean made his way towards his Impala, carrying Y/N's backpack after taking it from Sam as Y/N strolled over to her Harley.

"Absolutely not," Dean called as he watched Y/N make her way towards her motorbike. "I'm not letting you get on that thing after you got into a fight" he said firmly.

"What the fuck? Who are you? My father?" She exclaimed. "And why not?! I'm not gonna run myself off the road. I care about Quinn more than I care about me. I'm not putting her through that" She rambled defensively, snatching her helmet up.

Dean raised an eyebrow at her reaction, his eyes flickering between her and the motorbike.

"I don't care, princess" he said firmly, placing a hand on her arm, trying to hold her in place. "I'm not letting you get on that thing. You're coming with me, in Baby." he pointed his thumb to his precious Impala.

"I'm not leaving Quinn here!" She snapped, standing her ground and Dean knew better than to argue. "So tuck your balls in between your legs and get in Baby" She growled before throwing one leg over her bike.

Making sure to cover between her legs that her sorta exposed due to her cheer skirt, snapping her helmet on.

Sam stood there dumbfounded, his eyes darting between Y/N's and Dean's, silently watching the scene unfold before him.

Dean, on the other hand, was not happy about her reaction. He clenched his jaw, his face hardening as he stared at Y/N, who had her leg thrown over her Harley.

Despite the stern look on his face, he knew that she was a stubborn girl and there was no way he was going to win this argument.

Dean rolled his eyes in defeat before grabbing her little brother, who was towering over him at this point, nudging him towards Baby and Y/N sped off. Heading back home, the Impala following shortly behind.

Sam followed his brother and Y/N, his eyes wide as he watched her speed away.

He knew better than to question the interaction between his brother and Y/N. The two had a unique dynamic and he knew that they cared deeply for one another, even if they didn't want to admit it.

🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔

Lake Preston, South Dakota

•The Next Day

The sound of arguing could be heard from the kitchen, Y/N's voice raised in anger as the volume of the argument increased. The Winchester boys could hear every word that was said from where they sat in the living room.

"I can't believe you embarrassed me like that!" Mr. Y/L/N yelled angrily, his voice echoing through the house.

Y/N stood in front of him, her hands on her hips and her chin held high. "Embarrassed you? I was defending myself!"

"We're supposed to keep a low profile Y/N! You could get our asses tossed in jail!"

"The bitch was looking for it! She's been on my ass AND Sammy's since we started going there!" Y/N screamed at her father, defending her actions.

"I even joined the fucking squad to attempt to be friends with her but it's like she took that as a 'Hi, My name is Y/N and I want you to fuck with me until I snap' SIGN ON MY BACK!"

Mr. L/N's face looked angry now. "I don't care! You should have just ignored her! We are under a lot of heat right now and you decide to get in a fight!"

"Don't you think I know that?! I've been taking it and taking it for well over a damn year and then she dumps chocolate milk on the leather jacket you bought me! Can you blame?!"

F/N's expression softened slightly upon hearing Y/N's words. He knew that his daughter cared a lot about the leather jacket he got her, it was her favorite.

"I get that you're pissed about the jacket but that didn't give you the right to punch her in the face, Y/N" he said sternly.

"She was picking on Sammy too!"

F/N's eyebrows furrowed upon hearing her words. He was aware that Sam was bullied a lot by Stella's friends.

"That still doesn't give you the right to throw the first punch, Y/N" he said firmly. "Oh, but it gives her the right to be a fucking bitch?! I had enough, daddy. I'm sorry I snapped but she got in my last nerve yesterday"

F/N's jaw tightened as he listened to his daughter's words. He understood her frustration but also knew that her actions had consequences.

"I get it, baby. But fighting isn't the answer. You should've just walked away and let me handle it." he said, his tone firm but gentle.

Y/N went to answer but a knocking at the door caused them all to shoot up. John and F/N instantly cocked their guns at the door as Sam and Dean scrambled over to Y/N. All five hunters alert.

The sound of the knocking at the door caused the tension in the room to rise. John and F/N instantly pulled out their guns, ready to defend themselves and the others in the house. Sam and Dean moved closer to Y/N in a protective manner, their eyes fixed on the front door.

F/N's grip on his gun was tight, his knuckles turning white. "Stay behind me" he said as he started slowly moving towards the door.

He pushed the curtains aside to see cops at the door, his eyes widening. "Jesus Christ" he muttered under his breath before turning to the others. "It's the damn cops." he whispered.

Sam and Dean both tensed even more upon hearing F/N's words, their eyes darting between the cops and F/N. Y/N's eyes widened in disbelief.

"The hell are they doing here?" she hissed.

"What do you want?" F/N hissed as he looked through the peephole. "Police. Open up, Mr. L/N. We have an arrest warrant for your daughter, Ms. Y/N L/N" One cop said.

F/N's eyes widened in shock upon hearing the cop's words. His grip on his gun tightened, his knuckles turning white.

Sam and Dean stood close behind him, their faces etched with worry. Y/N, on the other hand, stood there in disbelief, her eyes widened in shock and confusion.

"What the hell?!" F/N exclaimed, "On what damn charges do you have an arrest warrant for?"

The cop outside the door responded, "Assault and battery."

F/N's eyes narrowed, anger and disbelief flashing in his eyes. "So you're telling me that you're here to arrest my own daughter because she hit someone?" he asked, his voice laced with anger.

"That's correct, sir," the cop responded, his voice unapologetic.

F/N's jaw tightened as he listened to the cop's response. He looked over at Y/N, his eyes filled with a mixture of anger, frustration, and worry.

"Just open the door" Y/N sighed, "And put your guns away" She whispered. F/N didn't want to open the door and let the cops in but he knew his daughter was right. He nodded in agreement before putting his gun away, tucking it into his belt along with John.

Dean and Sam both gave Y/N a worried look, but followed her father's lead and put away their own weapons.

F/N took a deep breath before unlocking the door and slowly opening it, revealing the cops on the other side.

The cops stepped into the house, their eyes quickly darting around the room, taking note of the others in the room.

The main cop, a stocky man with a stern look on his face, spoke up, "Ms. Y/N L/N, you are under arrest for assault and battery of Stella Luther."

"Tell me something I don't know" She spat as they grappled her wrist roughly, turning her around and pressing the teenage girl against the wall as if she's a hardback criminal.

The sight of the cops grabbing Y/N roughly and slamming her against the wall sent a jolt of anger through F/N, John, Dean, and Sam. F/N's fists clenched at his sides, his jaw tightening in anger.

"Hey!" Dean exclaimed, "There's no need to be so rough with her. She's just a damn teenage girl." Dean yelled protectively as they read Y/N her rights.

"Shut it, boy" The main cop barked back at Dean before continuing on with reading Y/N her rights.

F/N's eyes narrowed, his body tensing in anger as the cop spoke to Dean that way. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down at the sight of his baby being handled like a criminal. His heart aching in his chest.

"Is roughing her up necessary?" John asked icily. "She's a kid for crying out loud!"

The main cop looked over at John and F/N, his expression cold. "She was rough with another kid, so we're being rough with her" he said, his tone dismissive.

The other cops, who had Y/N pinned against the wall, tightened their grip on her arms. Y/N winced in pain, her face pressed hard against the wall.

"I'll have you know, I like it rough" Y/N sassed back. "So all you're doing is further turning me on, officer!" She grunted through gritted teeth. Yes she was aware of the fact that her father was behind her, but she couldn't care less at this point.

Dean and Sam both stifled a laugh, trying to hold back their grins. John shook his head in disbelief, surprisingly trying to hide a small smile at Y/N's sass. It kinda reminded him of her mother when she first introduced him to Mary.

F/N, on the other hand, shot Y/N a glare before turning back to the cops. "Can you at least try not to slam her against the wall like a damn criminal?" he asked, his voice laced with anger as they shoved her out of the house and pulled her roughly towards the squad car.

Dean gritted his teeth once more at the way they're manhandling her. Having to force himself not to attack a cop but that'll mean serious jail time for him.

The main cop just gave F/N a dismissive look before pushing Y/N into the squad car. "She's a criminal, sir. She assaulted another girl" he said as if that completely excused his rough treatment of Y/N.

Y/N sat in the back of the car, her wrists cuffed together, seething with anger and frustration. "A girl who was bullying her! Did you get your badges in a fucking cereal box?!?" Dean exclaimed furiously.

The main cop turned to Dean, his eyes narrowing. "Watch it, boy" he said gruffly. "Assault is assault, no matter who you assault"

John stepped forward, trying to diffuse the situation. "We understand that, officer, but Y/N isn't a danger. She's just a teenage girl who snapped at a bully."

The main cop just rolled his eyes. "Oh, so that gives her the right to go around attacking people?" he snapped back.

F/N stepped up, his eyes fixed on the main cop. "She was defending herself and her brother" he said firmly, trying to keep his cool as he nudged Sam to stand infront of him.

The main cop looked at F/N with a look of annoyance. "That doesn't change the fact that she assaulted another kid" he said, his tone dismissive.

John's jaw clenched as he stepped up beside F/N, his eyes narrowing on the main cop. "And that doesn't change the fact that she acted in self-defense."

"Hey Mulder, Scully. Why don't you hurry it up and ship me off to my cell? I wanna learn how to not drop my soap!" Y/N poked her head out of the squad car window.

The main cop, annoyed by Y/N's cheeky remark, slammed the door shut. "Shut up back there." he grumbled before getting into the front seat of the squad car.

The other officer, a younger, more soft-spoken cop, just shook his head at Y/N's remark. "You really can't catch a break, kid." he muttered before getting into the passenger seat.

"You stand up to a bitch and you get canned. Welcome to America, officer" Y/N snorted, shaking her head as she but back tears. As much as she would bust a joke about the situation, she was fucking scared for what awaits her inside.

The younger cop, the one who didn't have a stick shoved so far up his ass, looked at Y/N in the mirror. He could see the tears starting to well up in her eyes, his heart softening for the girl.

Sam and Dean had their hands pressed against the window, instructing Y/N on what to do once she's held

"Demand a lawyer!" Sam instructed

"We'll get you out of there in no time Princess!" Dean promised, pressing a kiss to his hand before pressing his hand to the window.

Y/N allowed her tears to flow as Dean did this, pressing her forehead to his palm against the window as a way of accepting the kiss, a little chuckle escaping her throat.

Dean gave her a reassuring smile through the window, his heart breaking at the sight of her tears. He knew how scared she must be feeling, but he needed her to hold strong.

F/N and John stood behind him, their expressions filled with worry and anger at the situation.

The younger cop, watching the interaction, couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for the teenage girl. He could see the worry and fear in her eyes, despite her attempts to disguise it with snarky remarks, Y/N's eyes flooded with tears, realizing that beneath the tough exterior, she was scared.

The main cop, on the other hand, just let out a scoff at the display of affection from the boys. "You damn kids, thinking you can mouth off to the cops," he muttered gruffly. "You brought this on yourself" he said gruffly as he started the car and drove off kid.

Y/N turned to glare at the main cop, her eyes still filled with tears. "I didn't bring anything on myself. I defended my brother and myself from a bully. But I guess you're too damn blind to see that" she muttered.

The younger cop looked over at the main cop, his expression disapproving. He knew Y/N had a point, but he kept his mouth shut to avoid the main cop's wrath.

🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔

Authors Note: I'm not sure if you guys remember me mentioning that Y/N not arrested for assault, but here it is!

Hope everyone enjoyed and I'm thinking of making a Part 2 to this. Let me know if you'll be down for that.

Update: Made it! Go enjoy, Juvenile Detention Center

Taglist: @hjgdhghoe @rach5ive @tiggytaylor @star-yawnznn @quarterhorse19

@deangirl96 @bitchykittenconnoisseur @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @mrsjjkwinchester

@juwu-theliciosa @magiccliopleurodon @nesnejwritings @karrah89 @whattheduckisupkyle

Thanks for reading,

Xoxo

[iliketangerines]

dude, ur like…really good at writing I’ve been reading so muchhh of your work. love it. i was hoping maybe if it were possible….(bit of an ask…—i’m a h0rn d0g)(and an attention wh0re LMAO)

could you do a one shot maybe of mk1 raiden and kung lao x f!reader? Like both the boys really have a crush on said reader and try to impress her during training,like Lao is either trying to drag her away to show off his new skills, or share his prepped lunch with her…or raiden pulling her away to ‘help teach’ her with her stance etc. anything to have her away from the other. (and during the process they also try to one up each other, yk a little bit competition Tehehe >:3, but also kinda cutely embarrassing themselves) so after a long day of trying to get the attention of reader, they both decide to just flat out tell them about their feelings,(Laos idea) expecting reader to choose one of them. only for the reader to exclaim that she can’t choose, that she actually really likes both of them, so with this being said…the two silently agree on what they must do next. So naturally…they both end up sharing her (aka clapping cheeks, aka fucking me silly, I’m talking pussy eating, fingering hickeys biting team work to make reader cum, praise and if you have some more you wanna add then please dooooo😼) I hope this is a good enough prompt for you to work with. I’m a mess I hope it was comprehensive 🥲

choose me!

a/n: don't worry, i too am a horn dog, clearly

pairing: dom!kung lao x afab!reader x dom!raiden

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), praise kink, slight degradation, blowjobs, creampies, double penetration, spanking

Raiden glares at Kung Lao as he feeds you something from his packed lunch with his fingers

you smile in delight as you take a bite of Kung Lao’s food, lips brushing against his fingers, and Raiden can feel electricity crackling around him as his anger rises

he wants to take you for himself, away from Kung Lao especially because the other shoots a sneaky wink at Raiden, as if saying that he was going to win you first

Raiden won’t have that

later when you stretch in the courtyard, Raiden offer to help you stretch, and you gladly take him up on the offer

you lay back down on your back and have him sit on one leg while he presses the other toward your body

you groan out at the stretch, but Raiden can only stare at the way your pussy is separated from him by two thin layers of fabric

you have him keep you in that position for a minute before having him stretch out your other leg the same way, and Raiden’s head spins at your flexibility

you wave him off to have him do his own stretches, and you easily slide into a split and you bed your back leg and grab onto your foot, stretching out your quads

Raiden nearly drools at the sight of your chest pushing out into the air as you stretch

he averts his eyes and focuses on his own stretching as you switch to the other leg, and when you’re finally feeling loose and ready to warm-up, Raiden comes up to you and offers to warm you up

you easily take his deal and train with him, and Raiden guides you through the stances and moves, warming up your muscles

he can feel Kung Lao boring holes into the side of his head, but he doesn’t care because you’re so pliant underneath his hands as he helps you

the next day Kung Lao brings you chocolate-covered strawberries

Raiden lets you use the amulet the day after

it’s an endless catfight between the two, and you start avoiding the two, tired of how they bicker and constantly hiss at each other

Kung Lao approaches Raiden underneath a cherry blossom tree and sits down next to him and tells him that they should both just confess their feelings for you

Raiden raises a brow at Kung Lao in confusion, and the monk continues, saying that you’ve started avoiding them with how much they fight and that he doesn’t want that

Raiden hums but finally nods, and the both of them get up to find you

you’re sitting in your bed, taking a day off from training, and you have a book in your hands and a thin t-shirt on to battle the heat of the summer

Kung Lao knocks first, and you tell them to enter

they both enter and share a glance between each other before Kung Lao blurts out that they both like you and that they’ve been trying to impress you all week

Raiden glares at Kung Lao, saying that they’ve been too much and it’s been driving you away and so they wanted to chance to come clean and possibly have a chance with you

you glance between the two of them and set your book down and put your reading glasses down on the dresser next to you

you ask that you have to choose between the two of them?

Raiden and Kung Lao nod, and you look between the two of them in silence before quietly saying that you can’t really make a decision, that you like them both for different reasons

Kung Lao looks over at Raiden, and it seems they have the same thought as Kung Lao closes the door behind them and Raiden approaches you on the bed

Raiden crawls over to you and presses his body into you as he tilts your head and up and kisses you

you grip onto his shoulders as Raiden presses his tongue into your mouth, and he feels like he’s in heaven as you moan into his mouth

he grabs onto you and flips you both over so that you’re on top of him, and he grabs onto your hips

your shirt rides up, showing how you have no panties on, and Kung Lao groans at the sight of your naked pussy and climbs onto the bed and settles in between Raiden’s legs

Kung Lao grips onto your ass, squeezing roughly and spreading them apart to see your pussy better and you whine into Raiden’s mouth at the sensation

Kung Lao mutters under his breath how you’re such a slut for not wearing panties, and he smacks your ass, enjoying how it jiggles at the force of the impact

your hips jerk and grind into Raiden’s clothed cock, and the champion underneath you groans at the stimulation

he moves you upward so that he has access to your neck, and he grips onto your waist tightly as he kisses and sucks hickey into your neck

Kung Lao behind you slides his fingers through your pussy folds and tells you that your cunt is already drooling for them and asks you if you've’ been wanting this

you whine and try to grind your pussy into Kung Lao’s thick fingers, but he retracts his hand and slaps your ass and tells you to answer him

you cry out a yes, and Kung Lao laughs, saying you really were such a whore

he slides his fingers along your pussy folds against, and this time he pushes his fingers in, groaning at how your pussy sucks him in

you whine at the stretch and buck your hips backward, and Kung Lao grins and starts fucking you slowly on his fingers, grinning as you whine desperately for more

Raiden nips at your neck and tells you to be patient and to be good for Kung Lao and take what he gives you

you whine but listen and clutch onto Raiden’s shoulders as he continues to lavish your neck with attention

Kung Lao continues to pump his fingers in and out of you slowly, laughing at your pathetic and needy whimpers

he watches as your pussy drools on his fingers, the wetness dripping down and staining Raiden’s pants, and Kung Lao removes his fingers from your wet cunt

you whine at the loss, but Kung Lao tells you to turn around and sit on Raiden’s face

Raiden perks up at the prospect, and he helps you turn around so your pussy hovers over Raiden’s face

you shift your weight on your thighs, unsure if you should put the entirety of your body on his head, but Raiden grabs onto your thighs and pulls you down, burying his tongue into your wet cunt

he laps at you desperately, trying to taste every sweet part of you, and you whine as he fucks you on his tongue

Kung Lao tells you to clean up your mess and points at the stain in Raiden’s pants, and you lean down until your mouth is only an inch away from Raiden’s crotch

your clit grinds into Raiden’s chin, and you whine at the stimulation and grip onto the sheets

Kung Lao tells you to hurry up and crosses his arms despite the tent in his own pants, and you stick out your tongue to give a hesitant lick to Raiden’s pants

Raiden moans into you as he laps your cunt, and you whine as the vibrations travel through your spine and make your head spin with pleasure

you mouth at Raiden’s clothed crotch, licking up every spot that your wetness leaked onto, and Raiden moans and bucks his hips up into your face

you groan and keep licking, desperate to have him cum first before you do, but Raiden grips onto your thighs as he loses himself in your taste

little shocks of electricity run through your legs, and you let out a whimper and a loud moan as you cum on Raiden’s tongue almost immediately

you grind your hips into his face as he moans into your face, and you fist the sheets in your pleasure

as you ride out your high, Kung Lao grabs onto your hair and lifts your head up so that he can kiss you, and you moan into his mouth as he presses his tongue into your mouth

Kung Lao pulls you away from him and tells you to get up and take off your shirt and get on your knees

you get off of Raiden’s face, and he whines at the loss of your sweet cunt

but he quickly loses that disappointed thought as he sees your bare chest presented to him and you on your knees before the two of them

Kung Lao strips off his clothes, and Raiden quickly gets out of bed and gets rid of his clothes as well

you drool at the sight of their bare bodies, muscles flexing in the sunlight, and Kung Lao smirks as he notices how your gaze focuses on their heavy cocks slapping against your stomach

Raiden guides his cock toward your face, and you eagerly take it into your mouth and suckle on the tip, pressing your tongue into the slit

he groans and grips onto your hair as you bob your head up and down his cock, and your hand reaches up to pump at Kung Lao’s cock

you moan as you look up at Raiden through wet eyelashes, and the champion coos at you, telling you that you look so beautiful for them on your knees

you whine at the praise and try to take Raiden even deeper, his tip hitting the back of your throat, and you breathe through your nose and push through the pain as your nose hits his pelvis

Raiden groans at your warm mouth enveloping his mouth entirely, and his hips buck into your face

you gurgle at the sensation, but you keep your head down as drool drips down your chin

Raiden says you’re so good to him, and he starts fucking into your face slowly, enjoying how your lips stretch and drag along the length of his cock

Kung Lao is doing no better

your hand is wrapped around his dick and spreads his pre-cum all along the shaft

you press your thumb into the slit every time you pump up, and Kung Lao has his head thrown back as fucks into your hand

he’s getting close, but he doesn’t want to waste his seed on your hand

and so he pulls your hand away, and Raiden reluctantly pulls his dick out of your warm mouth

you whine at the loss, but Kung Lao drags you up and lays down in the bed with you laying on top of him, chest pressing into his

Kung Lao aligns himself with your dripping pussy, and he slides in, groaning at the feeling of your wet cunt squeezing around his fat cock

you whine at the feeling as your hips jerk, too full and stretched, and Kung Lao slaps your ass and tells you that you can take more

you then feel Raiden notch his dick right next to Kung Lao’s, and you say you can’t, you’re already so full, you can’t, fuck, it’s too much

Kung Lao purrs out that you can, and Raiden agrees as he slowly slides into you, saying that you can be a good little slut and take their cocks, right?

you sob at the stretch, but you blabber out incoherent nonsense that you can be good for them, that you’ll be a good whore for them

Raiden hums happily and starts thrusting in and out of you slowly, and Kung Lao follows soon after

their pace quickens soon enough, and they’re soon abusing your poor pussy, the sound of wet slaps echoing in the air and mixing with the sound of your moans and whines

you’ve never felt so full, and your clit grinds into Kung Lao’s pelvis with every thrust

you’re slowly losing your mind to the pleasure and you can only clench onto the sheets and whine

Kung Lao has one hand gripping onto you waist hard enough to leave bruises, and his other hand cups the back of your neck and brings your lips to his

Raiden has his hands squeezing your ass, hands sending little shocks of electricity through the plushness as he becomes consumed by pleasure

your head spins as you moan into Kung Lao’s mouth and cum on their cocks

they groan at the feeling of your pussy clenching down on them, but neither of them cum

rather they fuck into your pussy even rougher, slapping your ass and spreading your cheeks to see how your pussy drools and how a creamy ring of your release form at the base of their cocks

your mind goes blank as they make you cum on their cocks over and over again, and the overstimulation soon sets in as you hips attempt to jerk away

Raiden coos and tells you to take one more, to be good and cum just one more time for them, you can do that, right?

you whine and nod dumbly, and Kung Lao laughs at how cockdrunk you are

but neither Raiden and Kung Lao are doing any better as their hips start to lose their pace and their pants and moans grow louder

their grip on you tightens, and they leave bruises in your skin as you throw your head back and cum on their cocks as they spill their seed inside of you

they fuck you through your orgasm and theirs, and Raiden moans at the sight of their cum leaking out of your puffy pussy

finally, they both come to a stop, and Raiden pulls out first

Kung Lao pulls you off his lap and lays you on your bed before cuddling up close to you

he tells you that you did so good for them, that you’re such a good little slut for them, taking both of their cocks so well

you whine at his words, and Kung Lao chuckles and presses a kiss to your forehead while Raiden slides in next to you, pressing his chest into your back

Kung Lao rests a hand on your hip and rubs soothing circles into you as you slowly fall into sleep, mind drowsy with pleasure, while Raiden whispers praise into your ear

you’ve got both of them wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even know it

[ichorai]

hell, yeah ; roman roy ; part two (m).

pairing ; roman roy x f!reader

synopsis ; pain was an old friend for the both of you.

words ; 32.0k

themes ; fluff, angst, drama, slowburn, smut, childhood friends to lovers

warnings / includes ; depictions of mental and physical abuse, talks of sexual misconduct (cruises incidents), mentions of death, a lot of sexual/suicidal jokes and general foul language, a lot of business talk, phone sex & a handjob, degradation, roman’s implied demisexuality, reader's got a tooth motif bcs all the other roy sibs have their own motifs, a lot of morally grey shit

series masterlist. main masterlist.

The Roy’s summer home in the Hamptons was nothing short of grand. That was always the bare minimum for the family, after all. Though you had been preoccupied with work, having a lot piled up because of your time off for Shiv’s wedding—you had dropped quite a few important meetings to come at Logan’s behest. He called for you, and for all his children, to come to the Hamptons and discuss his plans to sell the company.

You stepped into the home, hands buried within your pockets. Immediately, you were hit by an overwhelmingly foul stench. It smelled an awful lot like rotten meat and, strangely, the piss-sodden alleyways in New York. Your face twisted into a grimace as you strode in, finding Kendall wandering aimlessly downstairs.

“Hey, uh, hi,” he said, awkwardly reaching for a hug when you stuck your arm out for a handshake. The both of you gingerly stepped away from each other.

“What’s that smell?” you asked, knowing full and well that Roman and Shiv were still quite angry with him for basically stabbing them in the back.

“Oh, uh, I don’t know. I think they’re trying to figure that out,” he replied, waving his hands around to gesture to the milling workers. “You, uhm, you’ll get used to it. Listen, Y/N, I know you and Rome are close, so I just wanted to ask if you could… talk to him. For me.”

Arching a brow, you tilted your head. “You can’t talk to him yourself?”

“He’s not… he’s being difficult right now.”

“Understandably so.”

There was a melancholic look to his eyes. “I know. Can you just tell him I’m sorry? I want… I want us to be okay.”

Pursing your lips, you gave him a firm nod. “Okay, yeah, sure. No promises that it’d change anything, though. You know where he is?”

“By the beach. With Shiv.”

With a hum of farewell, you started backing off, making your way to the sandy shores not too far from the house. You spotted their figures in the distance, bundled in dark coats and long scarves. When they spotted you approaching, the both of them waved.

“Hey, guys,” you greeted, smiling brightly.

“Hey, fuck-face,” said Roman, giving you a quick hug, before stepping back to allow Shiv to do the same. “We were all waiting for you.”

“Sorry I’m late—work has been kicking my ass lately.” 

Snorting, Roman quipped, “You know you can take a couple days to relax, right? I’m literally your boss.”

“I’m a general manager, Rome. If I stop, that’s a large chunk of Waystar down. I’m trying to keep the company from sinking further into the depths of hell,” you said lightly, crossing your arms. “But it seems like Logan wants to sell it away. What’s our viewpoint?”

The both of them struggled for words.

“If the selling isn’t actually real… like some kind of fucked-up loyalty test, we were just talking about how dad’s going to kill Kendall,” said Shiv, looking none too upset about the prospect. “How that would mean it could be Rome who takes up the mantle.”

That made sense. Connor was not an option, not in Logan’s eyes. He was barely a son to the man, much less the heir to his legacy.

“It could,” you said, careful. “It could also mean you, though.”

 Both you and Roman stared Shiv down. 

Finally, she caved and shook her head with a humorless laugh. “Yeah. Yes, it could be me.”

Sensing that the two of them were on the verge of another catfight, you quickly intercepted, “I bumped into Kendall in the house just now. He wanted me to, uhm, tell you that he’s sorry.”

Roman’s features twisted. “Well, tell him he can stick his apologies up his ass.”

“I’m not a fucking messenger! Tell him that yourself.”

Rolling her eyes, Shiv jerked her head back to the house. “We should probably get back inside. Dad’s gonna be here any minute by now.”

It was on your trek back that the three of you bumped into Kendall, who was wearing sunglasses even though the sky wasn’t all that visible through the gloomy clouds. Both Shiv and Roman didn’t hesitate to duke out their frustrations on him, asking why he changed his mind on the takeover so quickly. 

“You do realize how fucked you’re going to be once you’re no longer of any use to him, right?” asked Roman to his older brother. “He’s got you eating fuckin’ humiliation gumbo on TV, and then what? Nothing.”

Snickering, Shiv added in, “Dad’s gonna play a merry tune on you and then throw you out the fucking window. You know that, right?”

“He’s like a sex robot for dad to fuck,” said Rome.

“He’s like a beaten dog.”

“He’s both of those things—and also a piece of shit.”

To your surprise, Kendall stood by and took all the insults his siblings lobbied at him, expression permanently fixed into one of unadulterated misery. A part of you felt bad for him, but another part of you knew he’d brought this upon himself.

Shiv stepped closer to him, each one of her words saturated in venom. “He’s a fucking narcissist who repeatedly puts his self-interest above everything else, and then tries to justify it with half-assed appeals of the rigors of the fucking market.”

“You’re a fucking prick,” Roman finally tacked on after Shiv’s mini-monologue. He glanced over at you. “Y/N, you wanna throw a punch?”

“What were you thinking, Kendall?” you quietly asked. “In what world did you see yourself winning against your father? And even if you did win, it’d be at the cost of your siblings. Would you kill them for your own personal gain? And not to mention that you relapsed and you’re not getting the help you need. You didn’t even thank Roman and I for picking you up from that addict’s shithole. We got you out of there because we were worried for you. We care about you. And you threw that right back in his face.”

Your words lingered heavily between the four of you. 

When Kendall remained as silent as a statue, Roman let out a loud groan, rolling his eyes to the side. “Come on! Fight back, you fuck-bag.”

“Guys, I just… I…” Kendall paused to look off into the waters. “I can’t get into it.”

“Oh, you can’t get into it? Shucks,” Roman mocked. “Fuck you. Come on, man. Treat us! Why did you actually back out?”

Shame flooded his features. He completely disregarded Roman’s question by telling his little sister, “I’m sorry, Shiv. About the wedding.”

There were tears in her eyes. Her father had made her cry after ruining family therapy, and now her older brother was making her cry after ruining her wedding. 

“How dare you apologize to me?” she asked, a sharp edge to her tone. With that, she rotated on her heel and strode off. 

You and Roman followed after her, your arm linked with his.

“You look like shit, by the way,” Roman murmured to his brother as he brushed past him.

By the time you got back to the house, you caught sight of the cooks dumping the expensive food they’d been preparing and laboring over for hours straight into the trash. When you wondered aloud what was going on, one of them quietly answered that they’d found the source of the smell—a dead raccoon covered in maggots, rotting in the chimney. Logan demanded all the food be removed because it’d been sitting around in the stench, calling for pizza to be ordered instead. 

When lunch rolled around, you sat between Roman and Kendall, feeling incredibly tense. The atmosphere between the siblings had yet to clear, and you weren’t quite sure if it ever would. The chatter died away when Logan cleared his throat sharply to quell the commotion and greet the family.

He began with a blunt address of the bear hug situation, which you noticed made Kendall’s foot tap against the floor in agitation.

“I guess the question is… do we really want this fight?” he asked. “Or is now the moment to cash in and fuck off out of the casino?”

Silence. He was met with dead silence.

“If we do fight, I need to tell the board who I want to take over,” said Logan. “So, please—I want you to speak freely.”

His words made Shiv tip her head back and scoff-laugh. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law?”

“Come on! We’re pals here. Let’s fuckin’ have it out!” gruffed Logan as he surveyed the table.

As if to purposefully push her father’s buttons, Shiv crossed her arms and pointedly kept her mouth shut. 

Tentative, Kendall spoke, “I think you should fight, but, uh… you’re the one who built it all. The man, the myth, the legend.”

In a condescending tone, Roman crooned, “Aw. That’s adorable. You’re always lookin’ out for Pops, aren’t you?”

“But is he saying Dad should stay on because that’s what Sandy and Stewy would want?” asked Connor with a frown, ever the conspiracist. “How do we know he’s not a double agent?”

“Nice to see you, too, Con,” mumbled Kendall.

Shaking his head, the older brother said, “Hey, Ken, I’m just saying what others are thinking.”

“It’s possible,” Shiv added, narrowing her eyes.

“Should we frisk him for a wire? Burn him? See if he’s a witch?” joked Roman, scratching at the back of his head.

Interrupting the banter, Logan said, “He’s taken his medicine.”

“Taken his medicine?” Shiv parroted in an affronted manner. “Is that it? Dad—you beat Roman with a fucking slipper in Gustav until he cried for ordering lobster, remember? And Kendall tries to kill you and he’s only five minutes out in the cold?”

You remembered that day. When you’d casually told Roman that you preferred lobster over crab. How he tried to order it for you instead of what was already on the table, and how an already ticked-off Logan was tipped over the edge and lost his shit, taking his frustrations out on Roman. The memory of the actual beating itself was hazy—all you could recall were thuds and muffled whimpers, fearful tears on your cheeks. The purple bruises on his face didn’t fade away for a long while. He would try to joke about it, but you never found it funny. You had apologized over and over again, until Roman told you to shut up and forget about it, nonchalantly adding that he wanted the lobster, too. That it wasn’t just for you.

But it was. It was all yours, had Roman been successful in acquiring the crustacean for you. You didn’t need to know that, though.

Trying his best to shrug off Shiv’s words, Roman tilted his head to the side and quipped, “Well, it’s not polite to order the most expensive item on the menu when you’re not paying, Siobhan.”

Logan could dump a billion dollars into an incinerator and that would barely even make a dent on how much wealth he was hoarding, you wanted to say. You kept your mouth firmly shut, biting down on your tongue.

As per typical Logan fashion, he brushed off the call-out of his abuse to his son. “We’re not doing memory lane here. Come on, spit it out. What do you all think? Stick or sell?”

“Well, I think you’re in the prime of your life,” chimed Tom. “I think another decade is just what the doctor ordered.”

From beside you, Roman’s knee nudged into yours as he began miming choking on a dick. You smiled, almost laughing out loud, but caught yourself before you did. 

“I, uhm, I think selling seems cool…” began Willa.

“Hey, Dad, Willa thinks selling seems cool!” snorted Roman, which made Willa fall uncomfortably silent.

With a disapproving stare, Connor bit out, “Asshole.”

“You,” said Logan. It took you a moment to realize that he was staring directly at you. Heat prickled at the back of your neck. “What do you think?”

You sat up straighter in your chair. “You’ll be rich enough to live a thousand lives if you sell. You’ll still be rich enough to do so if you stay in the game. The only difference is, you lose your legacy if you go with the former.”

Scrutinizing you, Logan dipped his head and took a sip of champagne. “Mmh, wise words, sure. Not your opinion, though. Not what I asked for. Those are just facts we all fuckin’ know. Bah—don’t waste my time. Fucking useless. Leeching off of me while your parents are parading in a nameless exotic country, drinking their brains into toxic liquid that leaks out of their ears.”

Shame curled within your stomach, and a blistering flush spidered through your skin. You could feel all eyes on you, including Roman’s. You were no stranger to Logan’s verbal abuse, but it’d been a long time since he brought up your parents' and their neglectful nature. The wounds were reopened, and stung much worse than you remembered.

Drumming her fingers against the table, Shiv said, “Dad, I think it’s possible that you’ve somewhat chilled the atmosphere of free-flowing debate here.”

“You know, Kodak was trading at about a hundred dollars a share back in ‘97. Yesterday, you could pick it up for about three bucks. That could be us. If we cash out, we could walk away with ten billion.” Logan glanced at his youngest son, noticing how he’d shuffled his chair closer to you. “Roman. What do you think?”

Swallowing, Roman shrugged. “I dunno, Dad. I fuckin’ love money, but I’m really scared of you, so…” He made a high-pitched noise, barely passable as a laugh. “Yeah, uhm, honestly—I’m not sure I’m willing to give my strategic advice in a public forum when I could just be a, uh, a player in any future moves.”

There was obvious exasperation in Logan’s eyes. Disappointments, the lot of you were in his eyes. Without another word, Logan stood up and began to hobble out of the dining room, pizza left untouched. 

“Uhm, Dad?” Roman called out after him, confused. 

He didn’t respond.

Roman patted your back twice before getting up as well, following after his father. Shiv was hot on his heels.

One by one, Logan had told them through the door he had closed behind him. He wanted his kids to come in one by one, alone, so that he could have their unfiltered opinion.

Roman went in first, but not before squeezing your hand, and slipping through. When he emerged only ten minutes later, his face was despondent. But his lips were twitching upwards, and you could immediately tell that he was just faking it.

“He’s dying,” he joked with faux anguish. “Riddled with cancer.”

The way Shiv’s brows kinked told him that she didn’t find it all that funny. “Rome.”

“What? It’s a joke. It’s funny. Dad’s got cancer. What’s not funny about that?” You patted his back and nudged him over to the couches, where Connor and Willa were sitting.

The eldest son rolled his eyes. “Sick puppy,” he called Roman.

“No, but seriously, he asked me to run the company.” Dead silence. “I’m kidding. Or am I?”

It was then that Logan called for Shiv to go in. You took Roman’s arm, leading him off into another room, where it was quieter.

“Hope you’re not planning on molesting me back here,” Roman languidly commented, but didn’t fight off your grip. “Nobody would believe me after what I said about Dad—I’d be like the boy who cried wolf.”

“Rome,” you said, partially exasperated, partially somber. “What did he say back there?”

The man across from you scratched at the back of his head. “Honestly? Nothing.”

“Hm?”

“I mean—I explained to him that it’d be smart to sell some shit, keep some shit. Financialize the company. I don’t know. Couldn’t really gauge his reaction—then he just said okay and told me I could go.” Your friend rested his hands on his hips. “Do you think that was smart? Do you, uhm, think he thinks that was stupid?”

It took you another moment to shake your head tentatively. “I think you did the best you could, given the ultimatum. Besides—you wouldn’t really want to run this shitshow, would you?”

He stepped back in an affronted manner. “What do you mean? You don’t think I can do it?”

“It’s not a matter of whether or not you can do it, Ro. It’s about if you want to or not. And I know you wouldn’t. It’s not… it’s not you. You’ve always said the company was like a cage for you.”

The way Roman squared his shoulders told you that he was growing defensive. “Yeah, well, it’s like a fuckin’—a good fuckin’ golden cage. An amazing cage. A cage where I can roll around and throw shit at people. I’d like to stay here for the rest of my life.”

“Do you? Really?”

“What, is this some kind of reverse psychology bullshit Dad put you up to? Just—” He stepped back when you reached out for him. “Fuck off.”

With a huff, you shook your head. “Roman, you need to pull your head out of your fucking ass and realize that I’m the only friend you have. If you can’t trust me, you’re fucked.”

There was a tense beat of silence between you.

Then, he narrowed his eyes on you. “If you stab my back, I’m going to kill you, then throw myself off the highest building I can find. It’ll be like a Shakespearean tragedy.”

“Okay, Rome.”

“I’ll put your head on a spike. Keep it as decoration.”

Slowly, he let you wrap your arms around him. “Okay, Romeo.”

“I’ll pluck your teeth out and wear them around my neck like a string of pearls.”

“Love you, too, Ro,” you said, hugging him tight.

“Yeah, whatever, fuck-face.” He buried his nose into your neck, inhaling sharply. “I knew you were going to molest me.”

The family reconvened later that night, where Logan announced that he decided he was going to keep the company, claiming his ambitions to be the last man standing. Then, he pronounced Roman and Kendall as co-chief operating officers, much to everyone’s dismay.

“We need to stick tight—tighter than ever now,” Logan defended when Roman began to protest. 

“But he—no. No, I’m sorry. Excuse me? He… he tried to help your oldest enemy to take over and now he’s getting a fucking promotion? Is that what’s happening?” Rome asked from beside you, arms crossed over his chest. 

The old man nodded. “That’s my decision.”

“Well, it’s bullshit,” Roman declared.

Quiet settled over the group. 

Like a dog being kicked, Roman withered away beneath his father’s contemptuous stare. You put a hand on his shoulder. 

“And you’re going to name a successor?” Connor asked.

“After some consideration, I think we just need a name to flag privately to big investors for now. I mean, it could be anyone. I’m not going anywhere. Could be a stuffed fuckin’ shirt. Could be Y/N, for all I know.”

Did he just compare you to a stuffed shirt—?

“Gerri,” said Logan. “It could be Gerri. We might as well say it’s Gerri.”

With a quirked brow, Shiv said, “Congratulations.”

Her godmother tilted her head and shifted in her seat. “Wow. Okay. Thank you.”

“It won’t be Gerri,” Logan rudely clarified. “But Gerri’s fine. Just so we’re clear.”

She was an expert at hiding her disdain, clearing her throat slightly. “No, yeah, I think we’re very clear.”

With that, Logan dismissed himself, calling for Kendall to follow after him. His number one boy.

It was clear that Roman was still upset. He pulled away from you to go sulk about to his sister.

That night, when the moon shone brighter in the Roy’s summer home than it ever did in the city, and you were buried under a thick blanket, you felt the mattress dip beneath another person’s weight. You didn’t need to open your eyes to know it was Roman.

“Shut up,” he gruffed when you smiled ever so slightly, even though you hadn’t said anything.

You hummed pleasantly when he curled his arms around your form like a koala would a tree. The two of you fell asleep that way, breathing each other in and dreaming of necklaces made of teeth.

The acquisition to take on PGM was a bad fucking idea. One of the worst you’ve heard, in fact. When Logan brought it up to you and a few other managers during a meeting, you didn’t hesitate to go bee-lining for Roman’s office, demanding him to tell you every single detail.

“So, you think this is, like, not good?” he asked, voice high-pitched and unstable. Just earlier today, he’d been telling his dad and Shiv what a great idea this was.

“No, Roman. It’s not fucking good. I’m sorry, I don’t know about you, but I don’t want the most trustworthy news source in America right now to be adopted into a fuckin’... fascist, right-wing, conservative dick jerking fest!” You drummed your fingers against his table. “Ro, this can’t happen. It could very well tank Waystar, and news media outlets in general. Reliability goes down, money goes down, our rivals go up. The political climate couldn’t handle such a change like this—”

Pulling at his face, Roman shook his head. “Fuckin’ political climate. Everything’s about the political climate these days. Fuck!”

“Roman, I’m being serious,” you said, brows furrowing. 

He sucked in a deep breath. “Fuck. Ugh—fuck! You are… you’re so…” He made an unintelligible noise while shaking his fists at you, nose wrinkling. “You’re right. God. I hate saying that. Feels like I just took a bite out of a rock. But even if you are, I can’t just stab dad in the back like that.”

Shoulders loosening, you nodded in understanding. “What’re you gonna do?”

“Tabitha is friends with Naomi Pierce. I’ll ask her to get me in touch,” Roman said, lips pursed to the side. It didn’t go past your notice that his stance on the Pierce situation was still left ambiguous. 

Your eyebrows raised a fraction. “Tabitha? You guys still going steady?”

“Uh-huh. Yup. Never better,” he replied, a tad too quickly.

“Really?” you asked. To none of his surprise, you read him like an open book. “You must really like her.”

“Mhm.”

“But not like-like her?”

Roman clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth in distaste. “What are you, nine?”

“You didn’t say yes,” you said in a sing-song voice. Then, you sobered up to seriously tell him, “Oh, Ro, she’s a great catch, sure, but if you don’t have romantic feelings for her, then don’t string her along like that.”

Rolling his eyes to the side, Roman tried his best to sidestep the topic. “It’s none of your beeswax, you prick. Anyways—you’re coming to Hungary, right? Corporate retreat and all that jazz.”

You didn’t feel like the conversation about Tabitha was quite over, but you let it slide for now. “Yes, Roman. Not really looking forward to it, now that I have to deal with an entire acquisition worth billions hovering over me.”

“Just relax for now—it’s not concrete, even if dad says it is.” Roman stood up from his desk to go pour himself a drink. “I’ll save you a spot on the plane. Next to me, if I’m feeling nice. Next to Greg if I want to be entertained by watching you kill yourself in front of him.”

“Thanks, Romeo,” you dryly said.

“You’re welcome. Okay, you can go away now. I wanna jerk off in front of the window without you watching this time. If you stay, I’ll fuck you against it, and that’d be my one-way ticket to a stern finger-wagging by HR.”

With a snort, you got up from your chair, heading for the door. You couldn’t help the way your cheeks burst aflame at his words, even though you knew it was just light-hearted banter. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, you fuckin’ slut.”

“Bitch,” he shot back, just as you stepped foot out of his office. 

“Whore!” you yelled over your shoulder, loud enough to have a few employees turn their head curiously. 

Roman watched you go through the glass windows, shaking his head with fond amusement.

The estate in Hungary was surrounded by forests and clean air—a stark contrast to New York. You were walking alongside Roman down to the hunting grounds, hands shoved into the pockets of your jacket. The rifle slung across his shoulder kept bumping into you, and you would push him away with a mild grin each time it did. He wasn’t very good at walking straight, eventually colliding into you mere minutes later.

The amicable atmosphere was effectively killed when Kendall approached the two of you, solemn-faced as ever. 

“Hey, guys,” he greeted in a monotone voice. “Listen, I have a question.”

Both of you stared at him, waiting for him to go on.

After an awfully lengthy pause he continued, “So, uh, did you guys get a call from that biographer?”

Right. You’d been in the middle of discussing with Tom how he’d landed a top position at ATN when your phone began to ring. You politely excused yourself to take the call, surprised to hear a woman claiming to write an unauthorized biography on your godfather—and she wanted you as a source. Though you had many opinions on a man, you knew that voicing them would be nothing but trouble for you.

Roman rolled his eyes. “I mean, yeah, obviously. I’m the interesting one, after all.”

When you laughed, Roman grinned along with you. 

“I got a call, too,” you admitted. “Did you?”

Tilting his head into a nod, Kendall mumbled, “Yeah. I did.”

“Well? Are you thinking of talking to her?” asked Roman.

“I don’t know,” Kendall said. “Maybe. You guys?”

“No… but if you’re going to talk to her, then I guess I have to talk to her, too. Just to correct your bullshit,” Roman responded.

Two seconds of silence before you huffed out a sigh. “It's a messy business that I don’t want to involve myself in. If Logan finds out, which I’m sure he will, I’m not going to let myself be killed because of it.”

The two started talking about Pierce. Both of them sounded so awfully fake about the entire ordeal that you wanted to bash their heads together and force them not to speak through a brown nosing filter. Their conversation came to a halt when Roman’s phone began to ring, and he stepped away to answer privately, much to Kendall’s chagrin.

“Hey, Kendall,” you broached, rocking your weight back and forth on your heels. “If you talk to that writer, Logan won’t be as forgiving to you this time. He’ll slit your throat in front of everyone to see.”

The man who you onced looked up to as an older brother stared at you with a dead expression. “I know,” was all he said. 

Once Roman came ambling back, Kendall began to interrogate him about the call. Defensive, Roman lied—you knew he was. He had an obvious tell: the way his nose would twitch and his left eye went all squinty. The older brother told him he was full of shit.

Before they could break out in another argument, a Hungarian hunter came up to the three of you, claiming that the truck was ready to take them out into the wilderness. 

“Let’s go murder a terrified mammal,” quipped Roman, taking your hand and leading you away from Kendall.

The hunting party returned to the estate with four boars. You took no part in the killings, having stayed in the truck to speak to Gerri on the phone. Apparently, she had very strong doubts about adopting PGM, and wanted to know if you felt the same. You were Logan’s family, she had said, and he listened to family more than his own general counsel. 

You told her you would if you could, but Logan was adamant on taking on PGM. No amount of needless peddling would sway his mind. 

Hours later, when the sky was dark and the table was laid out with all sorts of fruits and glasses of spiced wines, everybody was seated for dinner. You sat between Roman and Gerri, speaking to both of them in hushed whispers about nothing quite important.

The amicable atmosphere was shattered when Logan stood up to address everybody. 

“Someone has spoken to Michelle Pantsil.” The biographer. 

Both you and Roman glanced at each other, knowing that it was neither of you. Was it possibly Kendall? Had he been lying to the both of you again? Or had it been someone else? Tom? Greg? Gerri? Frank?

“We’ve got rats on this ship,” continued your godfather, rounding behind people’s chairs in a menacing, domineering manner. “And Pierce—who’s got my back, hm? Who’s really behind me? Anyone wanna own up? Hm? Anyone want to rat out a rat?”

Ah. So it seemed Pierce knew of Logan’s moves now. You didn’t dare chance a glance at Roman, knowing it was him who had told Naomi.

Logan began to sharply question a few people at the table, demanding to know if they had anything they wanted to say to him. It shocked you even further when he barked out an order for everyone to put their phones on the table—both company and private.

“Is that really necessary?” asked Gerri. “I’m not even sure if that’s legal to demand people to—”

“Yeah, well, we’re getting down to brass fucking tacks,” spat Logan, eyeing everybody darkly. You did as he said, placing both of your devices onto the table—you had nothing to hide. From the corner of your eye, you spotted Roman slipping his phone beneath his leg.

When he caught your gaze, his head dipped forward a bit and his eyebrows pulled together. Shut up, his eyes seemed to tell you. Even without verbalizing it, he still somehow managed to be rude to you.

You narrowed them back at him, wordlessly telling him not to worry.

“Karl, do you like the Pierce deal?” Logan queried.

“I do. Yes, I do. Yes, yeah.”

With a dry chuckle, Logan shook his head. “Bullshit. Boar on the floor.”

The two men began their back and forth—Logan commanding Karl to stand in the corner whilst the former sputtered out indignant protests. It was embarrassing and humiliating, and he was going to do it all anyway.

“Tom.”

“Me? Uh, Pierce?”

“Yes,” said an exasperated Logan.

Clearing his throat, Tom hesitantly said, “Well, there’s a lot of factors, but uhm, yes. Personally, I like it. I do.”

“Boar on the fucking floor, over there,” gruffed your godfather, pointing over to where Karl stood. 

With no protest, Tom pushed away from the table and slunk off. 

“Gerri! Stand up! Tell me about Pierce.” 

Her gaze stayed on her untouched plate as she got onto her feet. “Well, to be perfectly honest with you… I’ve, uhm, I’ve had a few doubts.”

“Honesty,” Logan finally said. “You see, everybody? Do you see? Honesty. Greg, stand up! Did you get any orders from my brother? The fucking Conscience of the Prairies?”

Everybody watched as Greg stammered out a near incoherent response. He was sent off to stand next to Tom and Karl, as well. This seemed to be Roman’s breaking point, because he burst into a fit of giggles.

“Roman!” barked his father. 

This brought him back to sobriety. “I like it, Dad, for real—”

“Stand the fuck up!”

With a bitter murmur beneath his breath, Roman got up to his feet. With discreet motions, you silently swiped the phone from his chair and placed it beneath your leg so it wouldn’t be seen by his father. 

Desperate to divert the attention away from him, Roman said, “Kendall took a call from the biographer.”

Logan rested his hands upon Kendall’s shoulders, which made Roman bristle even harder. His older brother droned out, “We all got a call, Rome. Y/N, too.”

“Okay, yes, but you—you seemed like you actually wanted to talk to her.”

“To smoke you out for Dad.”

Roman’s nose wrinkled. “What? Fuck you! Why’d you get to smoke me out? I was smokin’ you out!”

As you watched Logan’s fingers curl into Kendall’s shirt, you couldn’t help but think of him as a meat puppet of sorts. So damaged and broken and directionless, ready to heed every single one of his father’s words. 

“Why don’t you tell us about your mystery call?” 

“Oh, the phone call?” Roman propped a hand on his hip, risking a glance at you. Then, he violently began to scratch at the back of his head. “Yeah, sure, it was Frank. He meant to call you, he wants to know if the plan to overthrow Dad is still happening. ”

Finally pulling away from Kendall, Logan’s voice rang out across the room like a slap to the face. “Someone spiked Pierce. Which one of you boars did it?”

He yelled for the three men in the corner to get down on their knees, claiming it was a game. Your godfather, now more of a monster than a man, called for everyone to get up and cheer, “Boar on the floor!” as Tom, Greg, and Karl scrambled about to eat a sausage that was tossed to them in order to prove their loyalty. He demanded they oink and squeal like real piggies would.

It was cruel and animalistic. And Roman was filming with his personal phone, a sadistic smile on his face. 

You would’ve berated him for it, if not for Kendall cornering you against the wall when everybody else was distracted by the Boar on the Floor spectacle. 

“I know you took Roman’s phone. I saw you,” he said, eyes flickering down to your pockets, where you had hidden away the mobile.

“Fuck off, Kendall,” you responded with a daggered edge. “You touch me, and I’ll bite your fucking head off.”

“I thought you were smarter than this,” he told you. “Defending my brother—do you know how many times he’s fucked you over? How many times he’ll keep fucking you over?”

Curling your upper lip in contempt, you spat out, “Get the fuck away from me, Kendall. What’s wrong with you?”

Suddenly, his hand shot out to grab Roman’s company phone from your pocket, prompting you to shove at him, trying to grab the phone back. The commotion caught the attention of everyone else, Roman included. 

He was quick to step forward, pulling you away from his brother so he could try to yank the device away himself. 

“What the fuck? Give me my fucking phone back, asshole!”

“What are you hiding? What’s the code?”

“Are you fucking serious? My code is, uhm, fuck you—”

The two of them began to tussle, arguing indistinctly as they pulled at each other’s hair and limbs. You stepped back, burying your face in your hands in utter exhaustion. 

When Kendall locked Roman in a chokehold, Roman finally keyed in his PIN, shoving his older brother away with a labored breath. 

“Okay, you got it! You fuckin’ happy? There’s nothing in there. Now give it back—give me my fucking phone!” When he began advancing on his brother again, Colin stepped in to keep him at bay. “What, are you going to touch me, too? Grab my fucking balls—I will drop you, you cocksucker!”

Finally, Kendall opened up Roman’s call history, not at all to see Naomi Pierce at the very top. He didn’t hesitate to tell his father.

“Dad, it was Roman. Roman talked to Pierce.”

Panic weaving through his tone, Roman shook his head. “Dad—I didn’t… I didn’t betray you.”

“Then what’s this call from today?” asked Kendall, holding up the phone. “Why are you talking to her?”

For a moment, Roman’s eyes flickered over to you. “Come on, man. I wasn’t trying to fuck the deal. I was trying to land the deal. I was trying to help—I thought it would be a… a nice surprise.”

His words struck you across the face like a slap. Roman had told you that you were right—that acquiring PGM was a terrible idea. You’d thought he was on your side. And now—it seemed like he was doing it all for his father’s favor. The best of both worlds, blew right up in his face.

“Roman,” began Logan, “you’re a moron.”

Crackling silence.

Kendall cleared his throat. “Boar on the floor?”

Having enough of him, you snapped, “Shut the fuck up, Kendall.”

“Y/N was helping him,” said Kendall. “Tried hiding his phone from the table.”

Logan swung his heated, intense gaze onto you. It took all you had within you not to flinch away. 

“I didn’t know what Roman was doing. I just didn’t want to get him in trouble.”

Your godfather shut his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “How sweet,” he spat. “The two of you are perfect for each other. Fucking morons!”

“Dad,” said Roman, voice warbling. “I am not a moron. She isn’t, either. Y/N, tell him—tell him why you thought PGM was a bad idea.”

Everybody’s eyes were on you. Suddenly, your throat went dry, and all words flew out of your vocabulary. You shook your head, a defeated sigh falling from your lips. Roman’s shoulders drooped with the weight of shame and loss.

“How much is a gallon of milk?” Logan suddenly asked his youngest son, advancing on him until he withered beneath his father’s glare. 

“What?”

“How much is a gallon of fucking milk?”

Confused beyond his mind, Roman said, “I don’t know. I mean, who the fuck knows, Dad? Literally nobody knows! Who gives a shit?”

“Greg! How much is a gallon of milk?”

The lanky man stammered out, “Uh, I mean, like, regular milk, or—?”

Burying his face into his hands, not unlike you had done earlier, Logan sighed out, “I am surrounded by snakes and fucking morons! You’re a bunch of silk-stocking fucks! Who backs me on Pierce, huh? Who?”

When he was met by silence, Kendall answered in everyone’s stead.

“None of them do, Dad. They’re all against it. Karl’s lying, Tom’s lying, Gerri’s playing both sides, Y/N is very clearly against what you’re doing.”

Hot shame curled within your gut. Though you were steadfast in your beliefs against taking PGM, disappointing your father figure was never a pleasant sensation, no matter how terrible he was.

“Uncle Logan, I’m sorry—” you began, but he was quick to shut you down.

“Don’t go sucking my dick now, girl. It’s too fucking late. You’re lucky your brainless parents are major shareholders, or I would’ve fired you a dozen times by now. Do you know that? How fucking worthless you are?”

Tears pricked the corner of your eyes. You wrapped your arms around your stomach, training your gaze onto the ground. 

“Here’s the news,” Logan said, addressing the entire group now. “We are going after it. And what’s more… I will win.”

With that, he stormed off, disappearing somewhere in the vast house. 

“Hey,” Roman tried to speak to you, but you maneuvered away, disappearing up some stairs, where your room was waiting for you.

It took a lot of indecisive thought, but you left the door unlocked.

To none of your surprise, Roman came crawling into your room when everybody was asleep. He slipped into the empty spot beside you, slurring out a litany of nonsensical apologies mixed in with how much of an asshole Kendall was.

“You’re drunk,” you whispered, pushing his face away. You hadn’t the heart to be angry at him. Not this late at night. Not when he was just as upset as you were about what had transpired during dinner. “Go to sleep, Rome.”

“Give me a kiss g’night. And tell me you forgive me.”

“Ro—”

“Just—just fucking do it! Don’t ask me stupid questions.”

Shifting in the bed, you leaned forward to press light kisses to both his fluttering eyelids. “We’re good, Romeo. I don’t know. I’m mad at you, but not as much as I’m mad at Kendall and your dad. I’m your only friend, remember? I love you, asshole.”

“Yeah. Shut up.” His hands curled over your waist and pulled you close. “Say that again.”

There was a laugh in your voice. “What? That I’m your only friend?”

He prodded your side with a stiff finger. “The fuckin’... the love thing.”

A part of you contemplated telling him to fuck off. But the wide, warbling brown of his irises told you that he was desperate to hear it. Desperate for any crumb of affection he was offered. “Mhm. I love you, Ro. I do. Now go to sleep.”

He lazily blinked at you, as if he was a cat. “Don’t be mad if I puke all over you.”

“I won’t be mad.”

“I’d be mad if you puked all over me. Why wouldn’t you be mad at me?”

“Go to sleep, Rome.”

“Night. You smell good, you know? Like if a unicorn had sex with a bouquet of flowers.” Without warning, he sank his teeth into your neck, and you had to physically pry his teeth from your skin to keep him from using you like a chew toy.

Muffling a yawn, you murmured, “Go to sleep before I euthanize you.”

It took him another hour to finally drift off, but when he did, the two of you slept better than you had in months.

Roman was terribly hungover the next morning. Headaches and droopy lids, barely registering your voice telling him to get up. When he finally rubbed the sleep from his eyes, he noticed that you were already dressed for the day, having gotten ready while he was passed out. 

“Everyone’s waiting for you, Ro,” you gently told him, brushing his hair out of his face and then taking his hands to tug him off the bed. “Go wash up. Come on, stinker.”

He let you push him around, handing him the toothbrush and a cup of water to drink once he was done washing up. You turned to give him some privacy to change, but his fingers just couldn’t seem to button his buttons right.

“These fuckin’ things—like they’re made of soap or something—”

With a light sigh, you rotated back around. “Come here, you big baby.” You straightened out his collar before slipping the buttons through their respective holes with ease. 

“Dad’s killing me. He’s cutting my fucking balls off.”

You watched him with a sympathetic gaze. “He won’t do that. He doesn’t see you as a threat.”

“That’s not the compliment you think it is.”

“I wasn’t trying to compliment you.”

Roman watched as you fastened together the last button for him, but you didn’t step away, staying close by him.

“If I was capable of any sudden movement, I would totally pounce on you right now. I like your shirt—is that a new shirt?”

“I’ve had it for four years,” you deadpanned.

“Hm. Old shirt. You should throw it out.” To his relief, you smiled at him.

Patting his cheek once, you asked, “Are you okay? How are you holding up?”

“I don’t know. I’m fucking terrible. But I should be asking you the same. Dad took a beating on the both of us.”

Memories of last night made your nose wrinkle in distaste. 

“I think everyone was just… caught up in the heat of the moment. I don’t think your dad meant everything he said.” He did, you knew he did.

Shaking his head, Roman slunk away to go put on his shoes. “He thinks I’m a moron. The worst of his seed, or whatever the fuck. How am I supposed to get him to take me seriously? Grow a mustache and read the Journal? I’ll fucking do it.”

“Don’t grow a mustache. You’ll look like you came straight out of a shitty European porno.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Ignoring him, you sat down beside the disorderly man, pulling on your own dress shoes and knotting together the laces, before helping him tie his, because his fingers suddenly decided not to work this morning. “Gerri told me I should convince you to go to management training. Because, you know—tada. Your only friend is one of the company’s head managers. Lucky you.”

“What, she and Dad want you to be my teacher? Sounds like a sexual fantasy to me.”

“It probably won’t be me. Might be a lower-level manager. But I’d come to visit! Get you in the spirit of things.”

Roman snorted. “Ugh. I don’t want to go back to classes. I’ll kill myself.”

“Don’t be dramatic. Let’s at least have some breakfast first.”

A week later, Roman was enrolled into the management training program, much to Gerri’s relief. She’d thanked you for convincing him, and you told her that it barely took any effort at all. Really, he just wanted to become better in his Dad’s eyes.

You were swamped with work as usual, occasionally checking your phone to see a long strings of texts from Roman, complaining and whining about the torture they were putting him through (they made him watch a video about ethical conduct in a workplace). 

When Roman called you the first time, you declined because you were in a meeting. You declined the second time as well, because you really had to concentrate on filling out important documents. By the time your phone rang again, you were in between tasks, and picked up with a grouchy, “What, Roman?”

“Yowza, who put that stick up your ass?” his voice came through. His high pitched laughter followed. “It’s fucking hell here. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“Sorry,” you replied, pinching your brows. “It’s been terrible up here, too. I’ve got a lot of shit on my plate. This acquisition really isn’t helping.”

“Are you coming?” he asked.

Blinking, you shifted the phone in your palm. “Coming where? To your training?”

“Well… yeah.”

“Mmh, I’m sorry, Ro. I really would, but I’m just up to my head with work. But I’m proud of you! Really, I am.”

“Oh, you are? Fuck you,” he snapped.

You took no offense to his bitterness. “Fuck you back. This is good, what you’re doing, Romeo.”

“Yeah, I know—I’m gonna grow up to be a real little boy and learn the price of an egg, and do… phone sex with my girlfriend like a normo.”

Laughing, you knocked your head back with a grin. “Y’know, phone sex is more kinky than anything. If you wanna be normal, you look her in the eyes during missionary sex and tell her you love her.”

“Pfft. Yeah, right. Do people actually do that? That sounds disgusting.”

“Yes, people actually do that. Have you ever considered that you’re the disgusting one?”

“Don’t be mean, this is my first day of training, you bitch.”

From his tone, you could tell he was smiling, too.

“Seems like you’ve been complaining to me more than actually paying attention.”

“I can’t help it. The videos are too fucking long. It’s like trying to teach Beethoven how to play hot cross buns on the piano.”

You laughed, and Roman felt a certain warmth pool in his chest.

“You can do it, Ro. I believe in you.”

“Thanks, mommy,” he teasingly replied. 

Your phone began to buzz with another call. “Ah—sorry, Rome, I gotta go. See you later, okay?”

Before he could say his grumpy goodbyes, you’d already hung up. To your surprise, your screen displayed the called ID of your godfather. Your palms suddenly grew clammy.

When you answered, his voice was soft and amicable—a stark contrast to what it was like in Hungary.

“Hello, dear. Hope you’re well.”

The rest of the call went surprisingly fine. Logan wanted you to go over to his office to run through some analytics and, apparently, he wanted to apologize to you in person. Mend the broken bridges, he had said. You weren’t entirely sure if there was another game he was playing at, but you couldn’t say no to him. He was your top boss, after all.

Just as you slipped through the glass doors with a hesitant smile, a loud bang sounded from somewhere on the floor. You flinched, eyes widening. 

A gunshot.

Terror wrapped its dark hands around you when security guards quickly took you by the arm, guiding you around bends and corners, before finally leading you into a panic room. Logan came in behind you, looking mildly distraught.

“Are you okay?” you asked, helping him sit down and giving him a loose hug. 

“Fine, fine. Where’s Siobhan? Kendall?”

“I don’t… I don’t know.”

When you felt down your pants for your phone, you let out a frustrated sigh when you couldn’t find it anywhere on you. You must’ve dropped it during all the commotion to get to the safe room. You settled into a seat across from Logan, watching the news on the television, your leg bouncing up and down with agitation. 

A few minutes later, Shiv showed up, embracing her dad with a chaste kiss. She gave you a hug as well, cheek pressing against yours. 

“Do you know what’s going on?”

“No, I don’t. Where’s Tom?”

She pulled away to call her husband, and you slumped back into your chair. 

Down on ground level, Roman was still in his training class, watching his partner begin to present his idea for a new ride, when a man burst through the doors, calling out Mr. Roy!

Well, there goes his chance to pretend to be a normo.

“Just in case you get a news alert on your phone, there’s been an incident at ATN.”

Roman’s brows quirked downwards. “Is my dad okay?”

“It’s been suggested that it could be a concerted attack against the family. Do you want us to take you to a more secure location?”

“Yeah, of course I want that—get me the fuck out of here!” The guard began ushering him out of the class, down the hall to a more ‘secure’ space, which was clearly just an inventory room. “So, uh, does an attack against the family include, like, godchildren, too? Or just, uh, direct blood-related shit?”

“I don’t know yet, sir. All we know so far is that there was a gunshot in the building.”

Panic began to settle in Roman’s chest. He fished out his phone from his pants and called you. No answer.

He texted you, over and over again.

Hey Fuckface You heard about this shooting bullshit? I thought they only went for schools nowadays. Answer me Bitch Right fucking now Can you pick up? Hello  Helloooooooooo 🖕 Hahaha funny joke! Now fucking pick up

It didn’t quite occur to Roman that he should probably call his siblings just yet. He was far too caught up with the idea of you lying on the ground somewhere, bleeding out to death. Certainly not a pleasant thought.

He called you again, and nearly threw his phone across the inventory—safe room when you didn’t pick up.

What the fuck Please answer me it’s not funny anymore If you’re dead I’ll kill you I’m being serious Hello? Please answer You can’t be dead it’s literally not possible

He called a third time, and there was no response. Growing increasingly worried, Roman finally called his twin sister, who responded after the second ring.

“Hey, Rome. You okay?”

“Yeah, whatever. Is Y/N okay?” he hurriedly asked, itching at the back of his neck.

“She’s fine. Here with me in the safe room. I’m fine too, by the way. Thanks for asking.”

“Fuck off, just put me on the phone with her!” 

A second later, your voice came through, and Roman nearly melted onto the floor in relief.

“Hello? Rome? Are you okay?”

“You fucking bitch! What the fuck is wrong with you? I thought you were fucking dead! Why didn’t you answer any of my texts?”

If not for the situation at hand, you would’ve laughed at how worked up he sounded. “I lost my phone when the gunshot sounded out. Sorry, Ro. It happened so quickly. They’re saying it was a suicide. But I’m not really sure—Gerri’s filling me in.”

“So you’re, like, okay? Actually okay?”

“I’m okay.”

“Ugh, fuck you. Go to hell!” he barked into the phone, right before hanging up. 

You stood, still stunned, handing Shiv’s phone back to her with a quiet word of thanks. 

Curled up in the corner of the inventory room, Roman found out that he and Brian had won for best pitch for a ride in the class. He smiled a little, then followed out after his partner to make sure that he wasn’t fibbing.

“I slaughtered them, you know? Everyone in that fucking training class grovels at my feet now,” Roman told Tabitha on the phone. “They’re jealous! And that’s all there is to it. Anyways, um, how are you?”

“Good!” she told him. “I’m about to get in the bath.”

“Oh, yeah?” Roman took a long pause. “Uh, y’know, Y/N told me that phone sex is kinda… kinky. You wanna…?”

On the other side of the line, Tabitha smiled, putting her phone on speaker. “Mmh, alright. I’m making the bath real sudsy.”

“Is that because you’re dirty?”

“I am. I’m a dirty, dirty girl.”

“Yeah, you are. And I would love to fuck you.”

She laughed, light and airy. “I’m so wet for you right now.”

A long pause. Roman winced. “Uh, that’s not… well, you don’t have to be so specific.”

“I’m… being sexy?”

“Yeah, it’s just—could you not do that thing? With your voice? It’s, like, breathy and unnatural.”

Sucking in a frustrated lungful of air, Tabitha shook her head. “That’s what I sound like when I’m turned on, Roman.”

“I know, I just… I don’t like it, so—” He made his way to the bed and laid down. “Let’s just be normal. Let’s be normal. Casual.”

“Normal? Okay, I was just trying to get into it but…”

“No, I’m sorry, yeah, you’re right.” He cleared his throat, trying to lower his voice. “Um, I’m fucking you in the pussy. I’m fucking you hard.”

Tabitha pursed her lips. “Amazing. What are you gonna do next, change your water filter cartridge?”

Rolling his eyes, Roman sighed out, exasperated, “Jesus fucking Christ—oh, look at that, I’m coming! I’m coming! Ah, wow, I came! Thank you! Hooray! Bye.”

Abruptly, he hung up, not unsimilar to what he did to you earlier to you in the day. Guilt suddenly flushed through him—he probably should give you a call. Say he’s sorry.

It only took one ring for you to pick up, and he could tell that you were smiling on the other end. “Hey, Romeo. Didn’t think you had the emotional capacity to talk to me after thinking I was dead.”

Roman rubbed his left eye. “Fuck you. So are you, uh, okay?”

“You already asked me that, Rome.”

“No, like—mentally or whatever. Must’ve been scary. Ooh.” He made a ghost-esque noise, but cringed upon realizing that that probably wasn’t appropriate.

Nonetheless, you scoffed through the phone. “It was jarring, but I’ll be okay. How’d training go?”

“I mean, it’s fuckin’ bullshit but I won the stupid ride pitch thing. They should have it built.”

There was some rustling of sheets. Roman wondered if you were clambering into bed. He wondered what you were wearing. 

“You really think they���ll build you the ride after your first day in management training? Don’t be stupid.”

“I’ve got money. They’ll build whatever I want them to fuckin’ build.”

“You know who you sound like? Like Joffrey Baratheon, from that show I made you watch. The one you never paid attention to unless there was a pair of tits on screen. Spoiled little shits, the both of you.” 

With an affronted gasp, he said, “You can’t talk to me like that. I’m technically your boss.”

You giggled. “Don’t pull the boss card on me, Roman. You’ve slept in my bed more times than in your own. That’s fucking… that’s like power play, right there.”

“Yeah?” Roman could feel a rush of blood go straight to his dick, which began to strain against his pants. “D’you think we’d get in trouble if we ever…”

There was a long moment of silence. Static filled in Roman’s ears.

“If we what, Roman?” you asked, voice quiet. 

Clicking his tongue to the roof of his mouth, Roman blurted out, “I tried the fuckin’ normie phone sex with Tabitha.”

“And?”

“She got turned on.”

“Uh, congratulations?”

“I didn’t like it.”

“Oh. Why not? You like your sex dirtier? Wrong?” You began to chuckle, but it tapered away when Roman went silent on the other end of the phone. More rustling blankets. “Oh, fuck, Roman. You’re an idiot, you know that?”

You could hear the sound of his belt unbuckling. 

“What else am I?” His voice was breathy. Whiny, almost.

“This is wrong, Romeo. I can’t… you’re dating Tabitha, remember?”

“Just keep—keep talking.” When his hand wrapped around his hard dick, weeping with pearly precum, Roman wondered if he’d bust his nut right then and there.

After a few seconds of silence, you tentatively continued, “You’re disgusting, Rome. What’s wrong with you? Touching yourself to my voice when your girlfriend was left high and dry for you.”

He began to stroke himself, eyes fluttering shut. A strained moan fell from his lips. Neither of you had ever ventured this into this territory in your relationship before. Sure, sexual jokes were always passed back and forth between the two of you but this was—this was real. Wasn’t it?

“Mmh, I don’t want you to cum yet, Ro.” You clutched the phone close to your ear. 

A choked noise emitted from his throat. “I can’t—I can’t hold it—”

“Hold it.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to cum with you.” More rustling on the other end as you kicked your pants and underwear down, dragging your finger around your clit. 

This seemed to send Roman into another fit of whines—the thought of you fucking yourself on your own fingers to him made his mind go all hazy. 

“Romey, tell me,” you whispered. “Out of all those times we slept in the same bed together—did you ever imagine fucking me while I was asleep? Like a sick little pervert?”

A groan climbed up the back of Roman’s throat. His pace slowed down, trying his best not to cum prematurely. “Yes, all the fucking time. Yes—” His words died on his tongue as he moaned again, and again, and again—

“God, Ro.” You stifled a gasp when you plunged two fingers into your throbbing cunt. It’d been a long while since you’d had the time to touch yourself—it was no surprise that you were already on the brink of an orgasm. “Have you touched yourself to me before? I’m sure you have. You sick fuck.”

The vein in Roman’s forehead popped as he bucked his hips into his fist. “Fuck, yes! Yes, please, Y/N, please—”

“Please, what?” You moaned yourself, grinding into your palm. “You wanna cum, baby? I wanna hear you make a mess of yourself. Like the dirty fucking pervert you are.”

With those words, Roman toppled off the edge, spurts of warm cum dribbling from his throbbing cock, soaking his fist with its sticky mess. He fucked himself through his high, whining with overstimulation at the sound of your own choked sighs.

Breathily, he whimpered, “What else? Please, what else? What would you do if you were here with me?”

“Mmh, if I was there, I’d make you lick your cum off of me. I’d ride your face until you pass out—oh!”

A creak of the bed as you arched your back, crying out his name, cresting over the peak yourself. 

More silence. Labored breaths.

You swallowed heavily, skin glowing with a faint sheen of sweat. The haze of your orgasm was beginning to dissipate, and you were coming back to your own senses. “Fuck—I’m sorry, Ro. I don’t... I don’t think we should’ve done that.”

He blew out a shuddering breath. “Yeah, we shouldn’t have.” His chest rose and fell unevenly. “But it was fucking amazing.”

“It was.” You ran your tongue along your teeth in thought. “I’m gonna go, uhm, clean myself up, Ro. G’night.”

“Mmh. Night.”

“This doesn’t change anything, right? We’re still best friends?”

Roman screwed his lips up to the side. “Yeah. Fuck, yeah. Totally. BFFs for liferz, or whatever cheesy fucking bullshit you need to hear.”

You scoffed. Things would be okay with the two of you. They always worked out in the end. “See you soon, slut.”

“Hey, Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Romeo.”

“Mmkay, bye, fuck-face.” 

With that, the call ended.

Weeks later, the Roy family was to spend the weekend with the Pierces at their family estate. You figured the reason why Logan had called you to his office right before the suicide was because he wanted you to come along and play mediator—the Pierces were a rather articulate and fanciful family. According to your godfather, they aligned much more with your and Shiv’s politics than his. It reminded you how you were nothing but a pawn on the chessboard for him to maneuver. 

Regardless, you knew you couldn’t say no. Even though he knew you didn’t support the Pierce acquisition, you were a valuable asset and that could potentially be beneficial for both parties. Besides, the Pierces were a powerful family. Having them as allies would be good for you.

You were lounging on the couch beside Shiv and Tabitha when Roman strode into his father’s house, bowing down dramatically.

“How was summer camp?” she teased her twin. 

“Hm? What’s that? Didn’t catch what you said. I’ve been down in the salt mines for so long with my fellow Johnny Lunchpails, I no longer speak One-Percent,” he said when he bent down to kiss Tab’s cheek.

Snorting, Shiv retorted, “You were slinging candy apples, Rome, not digging the Panama Canal.”

“I’ve seen the world for how it really is, Siobhan, and it has changed me! I’m a kettle corn shoveler, here to show you frilly clit-flickers the truth. Hullo, Y/N. You look lovely.” He patted your cheek thrice, and you swatted his hand away before the fourth. A part of you had been worrying for the past few days about your relationship with Roman. Would things change after what had happened over the phone? Or was it all just… no big deal?

To your relief, the two of you seemed to be just the same as before. 

“Hey, Rome. Nice to see you’ve been so… humbled. Tell me, if I were to ask you to do my laundry, would you know how?”

Tabitha cracked up at your words and she nudged at your knee humorously. 

Roman rolled his eyes, muttering something about how he wouldn’t want to touch your tighty whities anyway, and scuttled off to greet Marcia and Connor. Only then did Logan come in, Kendall in tow. His little meat puppet.

“Alright. Cars are waiting—but first, some announcements. Frank, if you wouldn’t mind?”

Logan’s right-hand man stepped forward to address the group. “As you all know, the good news is that the Pierces are entertaining our offer, but bad news—they’re inquiring about your moral character, hence this weekend.”

“They want to look us in the teeth,” gruffed Logan.

Frank nodded. “Right. They want our 24 billion, but they also want to be able to ensure the integrity of their news outlets into the future.”

“Mmh, to ensure everything goes smoothly, we’ve prepared a few do’s and don’ts for the weekend,” said Gerri, pointedly staring at Roman. “Topics to stay clear of: Ravenhead, ATN, Israel, Brightstar, and the Cruise’s rumor mill. Steer onto: gossip, investments, art, movies, literature… tittle-tattle. Wider cultural interests.”

“Oh, and two drinks maximum,” Frank added. “They’re not big drinkers.”

Tilting his head, Roman drawled, “That’s okay. Nobody here has any glaring substance abuse issues that almost brought down the company, right?” He lolled his head over to Kendall, shooting him a wink.

Logan went through a few more details about Tom and ATN and Rhea, which certainly raised a few apprehensions. 

“Thanks for all your help,” said Logan. For a moment, his eyes landed on you. You wondered if he had considered that you’d purposefully sabotage this weekend to stop the deal from going through. Or maybe he knew you were his loyal lapdog, no matter how far he kicked you. Or maybe he simply wanted you there for diversity points. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time. “We need this. Bagging Pierce is the key to our proxy defense. And the defense is life itself. See you at Plymouth Rock.”

Once the helicopters landed onto Pierce's land and everyone was filed out into the vast green fields, Logan turned to his group and gestured for them to smile. He’d even gone out of his way to brush a stray piece of lint off of your coat for you whilst passing by. 

“I am smiling!” Roman haughtily protested when his father gave him a pointed glare.

“Yeah, not like a pervert,” said Shiv.

You grinned, laughing out, “That’s just how he looks, Shiv.”

“Hardee-har-har,” Roman spat out. Then, he watched as Logan linked arms with both Marcia and Shiv. “Wow, Jesus. Look at Papa Smurf. Should I be doing that with you guys?”

Both you and Tabitha glanced at each other, before walking onwards, flat out ignoring Roman. 

The Pierce family was waiting not too far from the helicopters, greeting everyone with apprehensive yet kind smiles. 

The woman who spoke had soft eyes and a round face. Not at all intimidating in stature, but you knew better than to judge a book by its cover. “Welcome to Ternhaven! Our city on the hill. I’m Nan Pierce—it’s nice to meet all of you. I think we’re going to have fun getting a look at all of you, won’t we?”

Both families drew nearer as everybody exchanged polite greetings. You shook hands with about half a dozen people, trying your best to keep up with names and faces. Once at the estate, someone had taken off your coat and offered you a glass of water before you’d even taken three steps inside. 

It was certainly a beautiful home. It felt more lived-in than Logan’s houses, with its abundance of paintings and framed pictures on the walls. The furniture was warmer and cozier—a stark contrast to Logan’s preference for sharp edges and monochrome colors.

Roman came up to your side and pointed at a Latin phrase inscribed into the archway. 

“In veritate triumpho,” he read aloud. “This wine is triumphant? No—your vagina trumpets!”

Passing by, Gerri sharply hushed him just as your shoulders began to shake with mirth.

“I triumph in the truth,” you told him. 

“Honesty is the best policy around here,” said a dark-haired man, appearing from seemingly nowhere. You heard Roman mutter Jesus H. Christ, beneath his breath, but you discreetly pinched his side before he could say anything else. You faintly recognized the man as Peter Pierce—a cousin of Nan. He’d been overly enthusiastic with his handshake, watching you with gleaming curiosity, complimenting you on your outfit. 

You weren’t blind. You knew attraction when you saw it—and Peter wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding it.

“So… where’d you learn Latin?”

“Self taught,” you told him, smiling politely. “I’m not fluent. I just know a few bits and bobs here and there. Tried to learn during my college years.”

Before Peter could respond, Roman motioned gagging. “Barf. I’m gonna go see who Tabs is flirting with. See you nerds later.”

He slipped away, leaving you alone with Peter, much to your chagrin. 

The man was nice enough, sure, but he was being very obvious with the way his gaze lingered a tad too long on your chest. And when it wasn’t there, he was ogling your lips. It was a bit unnerving. 

“I’ve heard a lot about you, you know,” said Peter, arms crossed. 

“And I know next to nothing about you,” you airily responded, trying your best to keep your smile natural, though it proved increasingly difficult with each passing second.

“Well, that can be remedied, no?” he asked. 

You internally cursed at his forwardness. “Sure, yeah. Sounds great.”

And off he chattered, prattling on about his time with his company and what he studied during university, occasionally asking for your experiences as well. You only paid him half a mind, keeping the other occupied with observations of everybody else in the room. How Shiv had somehow managed to insult someone already, how Connor was talking about his presidential campaign with someone who so clearly didn’t agree with his views, and how Roman was guffawing at something Naomi and Tabitha were discussing.

“And what about the tabloids on you?”

“I’m sorry?” you asked, snapping your attention back onto Peter. 

“The tabloids about you and Roman. A lot of them discuss the two of you as a pair.”

Shrugging one of your shoulders, you shook your head. “Those are just baseless rumors.” You thought back to how you and Roman jerked off to each other through the phone. Not baseless at all, it seemed. “Roman and I are friends.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”

Peter smiled. A part of you felt bad for stringing him along in such a way. He seemed like a nice enough guy, if you didn’t count all the uncomfortable ogling. “I just feel like we have a connection, you know? Do you feel it, too?”

“Mmh. Yeah, I’m feeling it.” You chanced a glance to Roman, who was staring straight at you with an impish grin. He saw right through your little facade—he knew you were miserable, and he was enjoying the shit out of it.

“That’s so good to hear. I knew you were different the moment I set eyes on you.”

“Wow. You really do have a way with words. Edgar Allen Poe up in here,” you joked loosely, trying your best not to sound deadpan. 

“You like Edgar Allen Poe, too? God, you’re like—fricking perfect for me. Excuse my French.” To your horror, Peter reached out to clasp your shoulder, steering you to a more quiet part of the room. “Tell me more about yourself. Things I don’t already know from the tabloids. What was it like growing up around the Roys?”

They were more of your family than your actual parents. They were the bane of your existence. They were everything to you. 

Before you could vocalize any of your thoughts (or, some poor, watered-down rendition of them), Logan shepherded the Waystar side of the group into another room for a short, private talk. You let out a long sigh as soon as you were far away enough from Peter, feeling your muscles loosen up. God, that man really did make you stiff in all the worst ways. 

“I think it’s going pretty well,” Roman said once everyone began filing through the door. “I mean, nobody’s fucked Nan or killed her cat by accident, so I think we’re doing pretty good.”

It seemed Logan didn’t quite agree, because he stormed up to his daughter, angrily demanding, “What the fuck did you say to Mark? Making cracks about his PhD?”

“It was a joke! He laughed.”

Frowning, Logan continued on, “He’s a yes, Shiv. He’s solid. Why are you even bothering him?”

The group began to then argue about Maxim, who Connor was supposed to persuade into the yes territory of the acquisition—which he was clearly failing.

“Cut the horseshit, know your roles!” barked your godfather. “Shiv, I want you on Nan.”

“Okay, Dad, we don’t have to be so schematic,” she protested, but her words went largely ignored.

Logan rounded on Roman, standing beside you. “Romulus. When you laugh, please do it at the same volume as everyone else. We didn’t get you from a hyena farm.”

“Thanks, Pop,” said Roman. You frowned, rubbing his shoulder comfortingly.

“The good news is that Nan seems to be spending money in her head—but she could still be swayed by her family, so every cousin counts,” Gerri added.

“Everybody, stay in your lanes. Who’s on Peter?” asked Logan.

“I got it, Dad,” said Kendall.

Quirking a brow, Frank said, “Actually, Peter seems to be rather taken by Y/N. I think it’s a good idea for her to keep him entertained. He’s worried the rest of us are barbarians.”

You crossed your arms uncomfortably, but nodded with a tight-lipped smile. “Yeah, uh, sure.”

“Pimp her out, why don’t you,” scoffed Roman. 

“Good. Everyone got their person? Let’s go, people. Stay focused, stay sharp!” barked Logan, and everyone began to pour out of the room at his dismissal. 

Roman clapped a hand on your forearm. “Hey, uh, if Prickly Pete there does anything—” He made an unintelligible noise while pulling a sour face. “You know the drill. Stop, drop, and roll.”

“That’s for a fire, Ro.”

“Yeah, but it’ll freak him out enough to leave you alone.”

You spared him a sarcastic smile, shaking your head. “Great advice. Thanks.”

“No, but seriously—just say you have to go to the bathroom or something. I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”

“Okay, Sauron,” you chuckled, shoving him away. “Go. Go and use your wily charms to seduce Naomi into making a terrible decision.”

It was his turn to offer you a lopsided grin. “That’s what I’m best at. Influencing women into years of regret.” With a click of his tongue and a wink, he was off.

 When you turned around, Peter was already waiting for you with an expectant expression. Ugh.

This was going to be a long weekend.

The Pierces were a strange family. Who the fuck recited poetry as grace before dinner? Nonetheless, you clapped with a polite smile once Naomi was done with her little poem. Roman rolled his eyes none too discreetly and you kicked at his leg beneath the table. 

On your other side, Peter didn’t hesitate to dive into yet another lengthy conversation once everybody began eating. 

“I like to have three novels and a memoir going at once,” said the man with a flirtatious smile. “It’s like natural selection.”

You forced a laugh—one that sounded genuine to everyone but the Roys, who knew you well enough by now to know that you weren’t amused at all. 

“Hm. I think it’s rather redundant to pit literature against each other in such a competitive fashion. Art is art is art, no?” you responded, quirking a brow as you forked a portion of salad onto your plate. 

You’d hoped that your comment would deter Peter from talking more, but your challenge seemed to only invigorate him. 

“A bit of healthy competition in a given field never hurt anyone. Pushes people to create better things,” he said, leaning closer to you.

“Mm, well, respectfully, I disagree. I think art—literature, especially—can blossom organically, just for the sake of it. The idea that creativity flourishes under competition is, frankly, just capitalist propaganda,” you said. 

To your dismay, Peter tilted his head and quipped, “Isn’t that a bit ironic, coming from you? Goddaughter of one of the richest men in the world?”

Your eye twitched. Beneath the table, Roman nudged your foot. 

“It doesn’t matter who I am. My point still stands, no?”

“I suppose we can just agree to disagree. I still enjoy reading several pieces at once… maximum efficiency, right?”

Another fake laugh.

To your surprise, Roman swooped into the conversation, “Yeah, I hear you, brother!” he chirped, trying his best to sound like an intellectual normie—he wasn’t doing a very good job, so far.

Peter spared him a glance, which made him lean even closer to you. “Are you a big reader?”

“Me? Oh. Yeah, big time.” No, he wasn’t. Roman couldn’t even remember the last time he picked up a book and read past the first page. 

“Can you recommend anything Oprah isn’t pushing? Any new fiction?”

For a moment, Roman’s panicked eyes met your goading ones. He began to laugh, but cleared his throat when he realized that Peter was genuinely asking. 

“Oh, right, yeah, sure I can… I, uh, rather enjoyed The Electric Circus.” 

“The Electric Circus?” echoed Peter in a rather pretentious manner. “Who’s the author?”

“Oh, uh, shit! Who was it… it was uh, Timothy Lipton. Yup. That’s him.” Roman was a terrible liar. You were getting second-hand embarrassment just listening to him. 

Catching wind of her brother fumbling, Shiv asked, “Yeah? What’s it about, Rome?”

“Uh, it is… about a young man making his way through the world. Except in two different time periods, so it kinda switches back and forth between—uh, yup! And—and the circus part is like, you know, a metaphor.”

Shiv narrowed her eyes. “For what?”

“Ugh. For the anxiety of modern life, Siobhan.” Roman only ever called his sister that when he tried to provoke her, or when he was exasperated with her antics. “Ask Y/N. She read the book. Ask her.”

Incredulous, you swung your gaze from your food to him, brows pulling together.

“You’ve read The Electric Circus?” asked Peter. His phone was in his palms. “I’m not seeing it on Google… Are you sure that’s what it was called?”

You began to fumble with your words, internally cursing Roman for throwing you under the bus, as well. God, he was going to owe you a million favors from now on. 

“See, uhm, it was a private little thing, uh—it hasn’t been published yet, exactly. Roman and I were just, you know, we were given the pages because we, uh, we were thinking of funding the novel ourselves! So, yeah… I don’t know why Roman would go and recommend that to you when it isn’t even available to the public yet.” You spared Peter a sweet smile whilst simultaneously stomping on Roman’s toes beneath the table. He retaliated by pinching your thigh.

“Oh. I see. Maybe when it comes out we can talk about it over a cup of coffee, then.”

Roman snorted. You sent him a half-hearted glare.

“Sure. That’d be great,” you told him before the man-child on your other side could come up with a rude retort.

Thankfully, Peter was quick to move on to another topic. Something about how mediocre the movies have been getting as of late. What an asshole. 

The conversation was cut off not too soon later by the white nationalist elephant in the room, as Rhea had so eloquently put it—ATN. Logan had vehemently denied sharing their fascistic beliefs, though the Pierces were clearly still skeptical of your godfather. Hell, even you were. 

There was more tense silence when Logan was questioned on whether or not Tom would stay on as head of ATN. The matter was never resolved, as he excused himself with a lame excuse of his sick dog having arthritis, pulling Shiv out of the room with him. 

You and Roman exchanged confused looks. 

By the time they came back, Tabitha was telling one of the Pierces about her willingness to help out her friend. “I’m thinking, like, if they can’t have a baby in six months, I’m just going to offer them my womb. Why not, you know? I’m young, I’m hardy.”

“Wow, Tabs, that’s really nice of you,” you told her genuinely, sipping on some water.

“Good for you,” agreed Marnie Pierce. “I had a friend who did that, it was so great—”

And then there Peter went, butting his fat head into the conversation where it was clearly not needed. “Uh, but if it isn’t too rude of me to ask, what about you two?” He gestured to Roman and Tabitha.

The blonde woman chuckled. “Oh, you mean us planning to have a baby? No, we’re not planning for a baby, because that would require us having sex!”

“Woah!” exclaimed Roman. “Hey, now.”

Peter grimaced. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

“Yes, you did,” said Marnie, and Peter only shrugged sheepishly.

“No, no, no, it’s totally fine, it’s just not our thing,” Tabitha replied. “We’re kinda like eunuch besties. It works for us.”

Scratching the back of his head, Roman cleared his throat. “She’s joking. Obviously. She’s kidding. We’re actually quite relentless in that regard. Just… fuck city out here.” 

You almost choked on the water you’d been sipping, the memories of a certain call you had with Roman resurfacing to the forefront of your mind. 

“You okay, Y/N?” Peter asked, lightly patting your back. 

“Fine. Just down the wrong pipe,” you winced. “And, you know, the idea of Roman and Tabs going to pound town doesn’t exactly whet my appetite.”

“Oh, don’t be jealous,” said Roman. “It’s unbecoming.”

Before you could snip back, the table fell quiet when Nan Pierce asked who would be taking on the company after Logan. Your godfather purposefully skirted around the topic, evading a solid name entirely.

Then, Shiv made the terrible mistake of announcing herself as the next CEO.

“Wait, uh, what’s happening?” Peter queried.

“Mmh. I think my life just ended,” Roman responded, looking every bit as shocked as you.

More flubbering from both Logan and Shiv. They were fucking themselves over, you could just feel it.

“You know what, maybe this dinner was a little bit premature. Seems like you guys are still working some things out,” said Peter. 

“No, uh, this is just some family hijinks,” Kendall tried to protest.

Marcia leaned in closer to Logan to ask, “Is this true?”

That seemed to be the last straw for him, because he yelled out, “Will you stop?”

More tense silence. Your foot rested over Roman’s, which was bouncing up and down rapidly beneath your heel. His hand rested on your knee, gripping a tad too tight.

“Well. I was just thinking that it’s such a beautiful, clear night out. Mark—would you like to guide us on a little after-dinner stargaze?” Nan asked.

And with that, came the end of the dinner.

“Did you guys know?” Tabitha asked both you and Roman as the three of you pushed away from the table to head outside. 

“No. No, I didn’t,” said Roman, still in shock.

You had a feeling, sure—there was no way it’d be Connor. Not Kendall, because of his recent endeavors with trying to take over the company, along with his substance abuse. It was between Roman and Shiv, and it didn’t take a genius to see that Logan didn’t think his youngest son was all that competent. That left only Shiv, after all.

“I didn’t know,” you simply said. 

The three of you strode out, leaving only Shiv and Logan left in the dining room.

“Those stars were really nice,” Tabitha said, lounging on the bed as Roman aggressively rummaged through the luggage in search of his toothbrush.

He was growing increasingly agitated about the idea of Shiv taking over the company, channeling his frustrations out on the poor suitcase for not presenting him his toothbrush on a golden pedestal. With a groan and a hand carding through his hair, Roman kicked at its side, sending the bag skidding against the wall.

“Ro,” Tabitha called. “I have a meeting on Monday, and I’d really love to deal with your neuroses and talk about it and everything but, uh, if you’re gonna lose your mind in here, I might just see if Naomi would let me crash in her bed.”

The man pulled on his face. He hummed once, then twice, as if he was deliberating over something.

“Alright,” he said. “Let’s fuck.”

A disbelieving smile danced across her face. She thought he was full of shit. “Yeah, totally. We do the sex so well, so that’s a brilliant idea.”

Clenching his jaw, Roman clambered onto the bed. “Alright. Come on. Come here, you hot fucking piece of shit.”

He tried kissing her, but his nose knocked into hers the wrong way, his hand gripped at her shoulder at an awkward angle, and his lips fell onto only the upper corner of her mouth, barely even counting as a kiss. 

“Woah, easy there, wolfman!” She burst into a fit of laughter, and Roman pulled away with a string of insecure apologies, rubbing at the bridge of his nose, which throbbed from the impact. 

“That was awesome,” he bit out, lying face-down on the bed next to her. “I’m so fucking good at this. Sorry.”

“Yeah, you were, like, squeezing my shoulder really fucking hard—”

“Wasn’t that sexy? How I just took you? Bet you orgasmed like five times in a row.” Roman rubbed at his eyes. “Do you want to, though? Like actually?”

She smiled. “Mmkay. Do I want to…? Make love?”

He frowned. “Nope. Wow. I just—” A groan and a sigh.

Features softening, Tabitha reached out to rub at Roman’s back. “Hey. I’m not… uninterested in solving you.”

Roman turned to face her. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you think we can make it, like… I don’t know… wrong?”

Tabitha was supposed to be dead. Which—and Roman thought this was quite obvious—meant that she wasn’t supposed to be wet. Now, there were a million and one ways for them to have sex and have it be wrong (like how it felt with you, maybe), but he’d suggested for her to play dead because… well, because he didn’t want it to feel like he was having sex with her. 

The very thought of fucking Tabitha didn’t sit quite right with him. He liked her a lot, and she was fucking hot as shit, but Roman just… couldn’t. He just couldn’t! Maybe she was right. Maybe they were better off as eunuch besties.

And so it came as no shock to both parties when the dead woman sex didn’t end up working out. Tabitha murmured that the morgue was closing for the night—and that she’d go wank off in the bathroom with her electric toothbrush as a makeshift vibrator. Roman apologized to her again, and curled up in the middle of the bed.

What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he have sex with his girlfriend, like any other fucking person would?

After five minutes of wallowing in his own shame, Roman dragged himself off the bed and did what he knew how to do best: he ran straight to you.

When there was a knock at your door, you were ninety percent sure it was Roman. The other, more terrified, ten percent anxiously wondered if it was Sleazy Pete coming to talk your ear off some more about the latest developments in artificial intelligence. 

To your relief, it was Roman, clad in a loose white shirt and soft, dark pants. 

“Hey, Romeo,” you greeted, pulling him in and glancing out the hallway, making sure nobody was around to see. “Man, am I glad to see you. I was really scared you were somebody else.”

He made a high-pitched, humorous noise, crossing his arms as you softly shut the door closed. “Peter? Oh, no. He’s too high and mighty to come chasing after you so early. He’s the kind to date the same person for ten years, accidentally cum inside one time and knock them up, which then keeps them chained to his side for the rest of his life. You’re good for now.”

“For now?” You were ready to make another quippy retort, when you noticed the way Roman scuffed his bare feet into the carpet, hand scratching at the back of his head. Something was bugging him. “What’s going on? What happened?”

“Huh? Nothing happened. Fuck off.”

Biting at the inside of your cheek, you reached out to him, holding both his hands within yours. “Rome.”

He parroted your name in an equally emphatic manner. 

You sat down on the bed, steering him to sit beside you. “Is this about Shiv?”

Oh. Right. He’d been so caught up with his guilt and shame over Tabitha that he’d momentarily forgotten about that other part of his life that was just majorly fucked over. 

Roman shrugged. “She fucked up bad, huh?”

You laid down, which prompted him to follow you, his head leaning on your shoulder. The two of you stared up at the ceiling together. 

“We all make mistakes. I think your dad probably led her on with a carrot painted with faux gold. Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Your long-time friend made a noise of agreement. 

Comfortable silence stretched thinly between the two of you. Roman faintly noticed that your hair was damp—you’d probably taken a shower after the walk. After inhaling sharply, he caught a whiff of your body spray: sweeter than fucking cotton candy and it almost made him want to puke. Key word being almost—Roman rather liked the smell. Especially on you.

“You smell good.”

“Mmh. Thanks.”

You arched your back, bones popping with your movement as you mumbled under your breath sleepily. Something within Roman stirred. 

“I tried to have sex with Tabitha.”

Suddenly, you weren’t all that sleepy anymore. “Oh? How’d it go?”

“I…” Roman winced. Saying it out loud made it sound so much worse, for some reason. “I pretended she was dead.”

“What?” There was a mildly shocked laugh to your tone.

“Consensually!” he vehemently tacked on. “But, you know, she was fuckin’ dripping for me, so… took the experience away, I guess. I don’t know. I like her a lot. I just don’t… I don’t…”

“You don’t want to have sex with her?”

Another shrug. Roman blew out a drawn-out exhale. “Yeah. I dunno.”

“That’s okay, Rome. You don’t need to have sex if you don’t want to, and you shouldn’t feel bad about not wanting it. That’s literally the definition of consent.”

A part of Roman seemed to melt with your words. Your affirmation that there wasn’t something wrong with him (or, at least that one trait of his, he knew there were several other parts of him that you’d consider highly immoral) relieved him more than he’d care to admit.

“Well… I do want it. I just don’t want it with her, maybe?” His voice went all soft yet high-pitched at the end of the question.

Suddenly, you turned your head to him, your nose only a hair’s breadth away from his. 

“Well, Ro,” you began, husky and low, “who would you want it with?”

He didn’t need to say it. You knew already.

“Who do you want to touch you?” you murmured, hand reaching out to skim over his chest, his stomach, grazing over the very top of his pants and toying with the band of his boxers. “Who do you want to make you feel good, Romeo?”

A low whine caught within his throat when you leaned forward to kiss up the column of his throat, nipping at the skin lightly. All of his sanity seemed to fly straight out the window when your hand dipped within his boxer, tugging out his semi-hard cock, languidly stroking along the length. He moaned, chest rumbling with the sound.

Your eyelids hung low as you nosed along his jaw, which strained with how hard he was clenching his teeth. “Mmh, you’re a dirty little pervert, aren’t you? Sneaking away from your girlfriend to rut your pretty cock against me. You’re a mess and I’ve barely even touched you, Rome.”

It’d been so long. So fucking long since someone touched him this way. Since he’d let someone touch him like this. Since he wanted someone to touch him like this. It was all you. Just you, and only you.

And so, it was no wonder that he was nearing his orgasm already, twitching within your grasp as he whined louder. He murmured unintelligibly, pleading for something he didn’t yet know. 

“Can you be a good boy and cum for me?” you susurrated, planting kisses over his jaw, his cheek, the bridge of his nose. You didn’t dare kiss him on the lips—you weren’t quite sure if that would be too far for your peculiar relationship. 

When he came, a loud groan erupted from his throat, which was quickly muffled when you clapped a palm over his mouth, his eyes flew open to meet yours, pupils fully blown, almost eclipsing the molten brown of his irises. You stroked him through his orgasm, murmuring a mixture of degradations and praises all the way.

You pulled back when he began to jerk his hips away with overstimulation, panting against your palm. The sticky spend on your hand glistened beneath the lamp’s warm-hued light, and you brought it up to your face to kitten-lick his cum off his fingers, humming in satisfaction. The sight nearly made Roman pass out. He swallowed hard, propping himself up on the bed on an elbow.

Voice hoarse, he croaked out, “Thanks. Do you, uh… do you need…”

Yes. You wanted it so badly—you wanted him. 

But you knew Roman wasn’t really in the right mindspace to reciprocate anything at the moment. And the guilt that weighed heavy in your stomach would’ve only been worsened if you’d pressured him into anything that he might’ve been uncomfortable with. 

Baby steps. The two of you had been taking baby steps in your relationship ever since you were, well… babies.

“I’m fine, Rome,” you told him, ignoring the drenched throbbing between your thighs and crawling up next to him to lay down. “You can repay me in the future.”

The haze from his orgasm was beginning to clear away. Roman’s nose buried into your sweet-smelling hair. “With, like, a fuckin’ Baskin Robbins coupon or my tongue up your vagina?”

A soft laugh and a shake of your head. “Both sound wonderful,” you told him, curling up into his warmth. A wave of sleepiness overtook you. It’d been a really long day. “Night, Rome.”

“Night, fuck-face.” 

You might’ve simply hallucinated it in your sleep-addled mind, but you could feel a faint brush of lips on your forehead, along with a whisper of thanks. You fell asleep with a smile on your face that night. Roman had taken a picture (with the flash on, which made for quite unflattering lighting) and sent it to you the next morning, giggling his amusing hyena-giggle while the two of you were in the bathroom—with you brushing your teeth and him perched up on the toilet seat lid. It was a tender moment of picturesque domesticism—a life that didn’t quite seem right for the two of you, unless it was with each other.

The rest of the weekend at the Pierce’s estate was uneventful. Everybody had gone home thinking the deal wasn’t going to go through—Shiv had told you her dad fucked everything by refusing to name her as the next CEO.

But, to everyone’s surprise except Logan’s, Nan Pierce ended up calling only a few hours later that she’d sell. You weren’t quite happy with the turn of events, but you supposed that’s just how it was with Logan. 

He always won.

Argestes, a business conference for important folk all over the world, was just under a month later. It was a rather prestigious event, the itinerary always decked with the most ludicrously rich and fanciful activities, with only limited invites handed out. 

This was to be your sixth annual year attending. 

You arrived with Roman practically draped over you, much to the press’ delight. After he made a snide comment about how manipulative you could be when it came to business, you bid him adieu, off to fraternize and mingle with potential allies you might need in your pocket. You were just grateful not to bump into Peter Pierce—the last thing you wanted to do was have him glued to your side for the rest of the weekend. 

The next day, when you’d just barely stepped out of your room, you got a frantic text from Roman. It was a link to a journal article about the cruise incidents, followed by a series of question marks and an indiscernible mash of emojis. The last text gave you the room he and his family were in. 

You rushed off to meet them there, checking your constantly buzzing phone along the way to see texts fly from dozens of people: Shiv, Gerri, your colleagues, your friends, your coworkers alike. This wasn’t a good look for the company, that was for sure. 

When you finally got there, Roman quirked a brow at you. “Have you read this? Tell me this isn’t the greyest shit you’ve ever read.”

“Give me a second, I’ve barely even woken up, much less had time to read the article.” You settled in beside him, opening up the link to begin reading. From across the room, Logan was skimming through a physical copy, glasses on the very tip of his nose as he mumbled under his breath. Shiv was on the other end, waiting for everyone to finish reading. 

Finally, you reached the end of the article, slumping back with furrowed brows. “This is, uhm, serious stuff but it’s also really unclear what’s actually being thrown at the wall here.”

“Maybe this, maybe that bullshit,” Roman uttered.

“Rome, careful,” said Kendall.

“Is this one of those things I need a woman to explain to me why it’s bad?” His head knocked into yours. “You tell me—is it bad?”

Offering him a shrug, you huffed out a sigh and scrolled all the way back up to read it again. “It’s bad, it’s fucking awful someone had to go through this—but in all honesty, I expected far worse for a journal article to blow up this much.”

Growing frustrated, Logan ripped his glasses off. “What’s the protein?”

A man you only faintly recalled as Hugo Baker, part of the Parks and Cruises sector, replied, “They found a woman, Keerson. She was working the cruises back in the mid nineties, and name-checked Lester McClintock.”

Gerri nodded. “She says Uncle Mo asked for sex with her and the other dancers to get their contracts renewed.”

“So they fucked?” Logan asked.

“It says sexual exploitation,” clarified Shiv.

“Said subject of the article is dead,” you chimed in. “So the blame on Mo will effectively be shifted onto Waystar. Negligence of ethical conduct, cruise malpractice, so on and so forth.”

A moment of silence filled the room.

“Well, what can we do about it?” Roman queried. 

Gerri said, “There’s not a lot of specifics. It’s not detailed. Cold hard facts: it’s one woman in the nineties, not twenty women four years ago.”

This made Kendall’s face sour, as he pulled the bill of his cap down lower over his face. “Great. I’m glad we’re so good at doing victim math.”

“Yeah, well, Gerri’s just saying it doesn’t necessarily punch through,” Shiv defended.

The older brother gestured to his phone. “Sure, but… this is not okay.”

“We know it’s not okay, that’s why we’re preparing a corporate response,” the redhead bit back. 

The conversation moved on to PR, which Gerri claimed to be Preston. This was met with Shiv’s vehement disapproval—they were three disgusting, old white dudes who, in her words, would just claim the women to be money-grabbing sluts.

“Call me sociopathic but isn’t this a tiny bit quaint in comparison to the past few years?” asked Roman. 

You bit down on the inside of your cheek in thought. “I think they’re hyperfixating on this right now because they see it as a gap in the chainmail. Mo is dead. He’s not around to bear the weight of blame on his shoulders.”

“We’re being punished for the sins of others,” claimed Logan. “No one real gives a fuck.”

You narrowed your eyes at the hot take. 

For once, you seemed to agree with Kendall when he shook his head. “No, no, we can’t be seen to minimize. I think we need to loudly and quickly say that this is not okay.”

“The question is, what would make it go away the fastest? Do we say it’s something and fix it, or say that it’s nothing and fuck off?” Gerri asked.

“Something,” pushed Kendall. “There has to be consequences.”

To your frustration, Shiv shook her head. “Nope. Condemn and move on. It’s just good advice.”

“Not to be the only frilly-pink feminist in the room, but this isn’t something to sweep under the rug. It may not seem that serious at first glance because of the vagueness but a few dozen women’s lives were ruined, and that’s just barely what we know because of the NDAs. If we ignore it now, it’ll come back to bite the company in the ass later down the line. The least we can do is compensate them, no?” you said, crossing your arms.

Sinking into a wooden chair that creaked beneath his weight, Logan threw his hands up. “This is bullshit. It’s all about me! It’s not real, it’s not honest. They don’t give a flying fuck for these poor bitches. They hate me! And I won’t be giving them the satisfaction of giving in. So no—condemn and move on.” 

You wanted to bury your face in your hands and scream. But you didn’t. You stood still and expressionless. 

They started discussing the panel for later that day. The original plan was for it to be Kendall and Roman up there, but having a woman up there would be much more… fitting given the well-timed article’s release. Shiv haughtily refused, but softened upon her dad asking her if she would. 

She’d think about it. 

And with that, the group began to file out. 

The hours trickled on by and before you knew it, there was only ten minutes until Roman and Kendall were supposed to go up for the panel. You were helping Rome rehearse through what he was supposed to say, even though you didn’t agree with the direction they were taking with simply condemning—it was better than not addressing it at all. 

It was all going smoothly until Shiv burst through the doors, declaring that she wanted to be up there for the panel, much to both Kendall and Roman’s dismay.

“Come on, man. It’s panicky as fuck,” said the eldest of the three. “It looks… kind of fucking cheesy, to be honest. Like we’re throwing our token woman at it? The woman who’s not even in our company?”

“Well, it can’t be two men up there right now. It just—it can’t. Right?” Shiv rounded her gaze to you, and you shrugged half-heartedly. 

“I don’t know, Shiv.”

Standing up, Hugo suggested, “Well, the audience is just expecting Roys, so—maybe we stick at two and someone relaxes.”

Logan’s gaze fell on his youngest son. “Romulus.”

“What? You want to pull me? That—that looks like a humiliation,” your friend heatedly defended. 

“We could just say you got sick,” Hugo said.

Both you and Roman made eye contact and you nodded at him to defend himself.

“No. No, you can’t just fuckin’ bump me ten minutes before the panel. That’s bullshit! Fuck that. Respectfully, dad, why is Shiv even here?” he hissed.

“I was invited,” Shiv replied in a serrated tone.

Roman crossed his arms. “Yeah, well, no, I need to be out there. We need to hang together. You know, like, family.”

Rolling her eyes, Shiv drew herself to her full height. “Oh, so you wanna get Connor on the line, get him to come down here, too? Let him dog-pile on so no one’s nose gets put out of joint?”

“I’ll put your nose out of joint!”

“Oh, yeah, you should say that on the panel—!” Shiv pursed her lips. “If you wanna know what I really think—I think you should drop both of them and I’ll do it solo.”

This time, you were quick to say, “Shiv, I love you, but you’re not part of the company yet. To shove you up there alone would look like fucking… empty wokeness. Like we’re smothering the problem with estrogen and calling it a day.”

Roman nodded. “Pretty desperate, Shiv—exploiting the situation for personal gain, hm?”

The three siblings bickered some more until it grew quite cumbersome and repetitive. 

Two minutes until the panel.

Logan held up three fingers, and that was the end of that.

The panel was… certainly a panel.

It was a lot of dancing around the subject between Kendall and Shiv. You were pretty sure Roman had only said a grand total of two short sentences. 

“We’ll do whatever it takes, you know? We’ll do whatever anyone wants,” he had said. 

From where you were watching on a screen backstage, you face-palmed with a sigh.

By the end, Shiv had made the fatal mistake of implying that Logan should step down from his position, going so far as to call him an old dinosaur. 

It was a shitshow, painted over with glitter and rainbows. In all honesty, it was an embarrassment to even associate yourself with the company at this point. There went all your business schmoozing and fraternizing for the past two days—right down the drain.

“Nice. Bring your daughter to the slaughter. Did you tell the old dinosaur what you were going to do?” Roman asked his twin once the three siblings returned to the room you were in. 

“Hey, I’m sorry, ‘We will do whatever anyone wants?’ What the hell was that?” Kendall asked.

Shrugging, Roman clapped both his hands on your shoulders from behind, squeezing your tensed muscles. “Fuck it, right? It’s just words. There’s no press, anyway. Who gives a shit?”

It was then that Logan walked in, Marcia and Gerri in tow. Roman’s hands slipped away from you to go pour himself a drink and stand by his father.

“It was too much, Siobhan,” said their stepmother. “Dinosaurs?”

Ducking his head, Kendall nodded. “It was over the line. Shiv was over the line.”

Brows cinching, Shiv protested, “Oh, I think it was pretty clear that I was talking about—”

Roman interrupted after taking a long sip of champagne. “No, it was clear, yeah. You tortured the old dinosaur. Barbecued him alive—!”

In a blink of an eye, Logan swung around and back-handed his son straight across the jaw, bellowing out, “Don’t fuck with me!”

The hit rang loud and true across the room. Flesh on flesh, skin on skin, father to son, boot to dog.

Roman fell back with a muffled noise, and you were immediately shooting out of your seat to curl a protective arm around him, placing yourself between him and his aggrieved father. Commotion sprung out—Kendall vehemently yelling at Logan not to touch his brother as if he were a valiant hero, Gerri trying her best to quell the situation with reassuring words.

But all the noise was drowned out in your ears. It was just you and Roman.

It was like you were children all over again, watching with watery eyes as young Roman tried his best to pick himself up after Logan’s frequent beatings. You hadn’t even noticed that your eyes had welled up with a warbling film of stinging tears, heart slamming against your ribcage with staggering, uneven jolts. 

He hunched over, working his jaw and spitting into his palm a second later. 

A tooth fell past his lips, flecked with blood and spit. You could feel your lips twitch downwards as you tried your hardest not to cry.

Kendall flanked to his left, his hand on his brother’s shoulder, and Shiv stood in front of him.

“Rome—you alright?” they both asked. “You okay?”

He worked his jaw again, then shrugged off Kendall’s hand. He was in no mood to be coddled by anyone but you.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m fucking fine! Just fucking—leave me alone. I’m fine.” As you began to lead him away, he called over his shoulder. “It’s just a tooth. I’ll get another one.”

Once it was just the two of you in the hallway, Roman dropped the act. It hurt like hell, and he felt safe enough around you not to have to put up a front.

You tugged him into your room with a mildly haunted expression, fingers gripping far too tightly into Roman’s arm. He walked into the bathroom to rinse his mouth out. The water ran a dark shade of pink. 

As he gingerly began brushing his teeth with a spare toothbrush you handed him, you studied his reflection. He stared back, hating how worried you looked for him. 

“You want me to call a medic?” you asked, voice small. “There’s a few on site.”

Roman squinted at nothing in particular, humming. His tongue ran along the part of his gums that throbbed the most. It tasted like copper. A familiar taste. Nostalgic, even.

“No.”

“Do you need to be alone?”

“Fuck, no.”

You rolled a tissue into a tightly-packed bundle, telling him to bite down on it to stop the bleeding. He did as you told, but not without complaining about it tasting like ass. It actually tasted like nothing, but Roman wanted to make you smile. He hated seeing you so worked up.

With that, the two of you made your way out of the bathroom. You made him sit down on your bed and wrapped your arms around him, clinging onto him like a koala to a tree trunk. The both of you slowly kicked off layers of your clothes, trying your best not to break hold of each other in the process. Shoes first, then jackets, then pants, then button-ups.

You were left in a dark short sleeve and your underwear, and he’d tossed off all his clothes except his boxers. 

“The Argie awards are in an hour,” said Roman. His lips brushed against your collarbone as he rested his forehead onto the slope of your shoulder.

“I wouldn’t have stripped down to nearly nothing if I was planning on going.”

“You’re gonna miss dinner. You’ll starve to death—and you won’t be allowed to blame me for it.”

“I have a banana somewhere in here. Plus—room service is only a call away.”

“Mmh. Mmkay.”

The tooth was still curled inside his clenched fist. 

“Wait,” you murmured against him, crawling off his lap to grapple for your wallet that you’d left on the nightstand. Roman murmured unhappily at the loss of warm contact, rubbing his palms up and down your legs. “I don’t really carry cash around these days but… I always keep a few spare coins in here.”

He watched as you fished through the slits, brandishing first a dime, then a nickel. Another dime.

Then you pulled out a quarter, grinning widely.

“I’m supposed to slip this under your pillow while you’re sleeping, but I have a feeling you’re not gonna let me get up for the rest of the night,” you whispered, crawling back to him and throwing a leg over his waist. He curled his own legs around you as well, leaning his weight into you. His head throbbed, his jaw throbbed harder, his heart throbbed the most. 

The cool metal of the quarter fell into his free hand. Then, he unfurled his fist. You stared down at the bloody tooth with unsure eyes.

“You have pretty teeth,” you told him after snapping out of your initial frozen state, pressing your nose into his uninjured cheek. “Even when we were kids, you had the prettiest pearly whites.”

Roman smiled, even though it ached to. “I remember you chased me around for my tooth once. Like a fucking freak.”

“Hm. You loved it, Romey.”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever,” he said, trying his best to be dismissive. Then, he craned his arm to place the tooth on the nightstand. 

You yawned, and he followed closely after you.

“It’s only eight at night. We’re falling asleep at fuckin’... fucking granny hour,” he grumbled.

A giggle, cut off by another yawn. “I don’t blame us. It’s been a long day. Sweet dreams, Romeo.”

“Night, fuck-face.”

“You know I love you, right?” you whispered. A light kiss to his throat as he swallowed.

“Obviously. You’re infatuated with me. Obsessed, even.”

If one was infatuated-slash-obsessed with the other, it’d most certainly be Roman.

You hummed and grinned into him. You didn’t deny his words, merely huffing with amusement. “I’m going to take your tooth and sell it on EBay for a hundred bucks.”

I’m fucking in love you, he wanted to scream.

“Fuck off,” he said. “It’s worth a million bucks at least. Shut up—stop fucking smiling, you freak. Go to sleep.”

You settled against him some more, and drifted off a few minutes later, listening to his heart beat from his throat.

You weren’t entirely sure what had transpired during the last few hours of Argestes, but there was one thing made clear: Nan Pierce had called off the acquisition entirely. You had no idea what to think of the entire situation anymore. You were just… tired of it all.

Not long after, a team had called you in to record a video message for Logan’s big fiftieth anniversary at Waystar. You were given very little time to figure out what to say, and so your message was short and sweet:

“Hey, Uncle Logan. I think we all owe you a bit of gratitude for giving half a century of your life to the large, ever-expanding field we call media. You’ve always been a constant figure in my life—heh, more constant than my own parents. I couldn’t imagine where I’d be without you. Congratulations, and I look forward to the next fifty years working by your side.”

It wasn’t over the top, and only slightly sugar-coated with falsities. 

Once you stepped out of the recording booth, Roman shot you a grin. “Cocksucker,” he teased. “There you go—something you and Rhea can bond over.”

You prodded his chest with stiff fingers. “Shut up,” you fondly told him.

“How’d you even get all that in one fucking take? They had me say ‘I love you, Dad’, like, ten times in a row.”

Before you could retort back, the two of you bumped into Shiv, who was typing away furiously at her phone. 

“What do you guys reckon—you think Dad is boning Rhea?” she asked.

With a snort, Roman strode away to pour himself a cup of coffee. “Can’t wrap my head around that. Too steamy. Too hot.”

“You are a walking Freudian complex, you know that, Ro?” you asked him, bumping his hips with yours so he’d move over as you fixed your own drink. “I don’t wanna think about it, honestly. Who my godfather fucks is really none of my business.”

“You’re just jealous. You want daddykins all to yourself!” said Roman in a sing-song voice, which made you purposefully step onto his toes. “OW!”

The hot coffee jostled over the rim of his cup and some of it sloshed onto his chest. He sent you a glare and you kissed his cheek with a sweet smile before moving off to sit next to Connor.

“Yeah, yeah, but we should, like, talk about what this means. We’re… we’re all sensing the shift, right?” asked Shiv.

“Gerri says she’s the new thing,” said Roman as he took a seat beside you, obnoxiously leaning back to drape both his legs over your thighs.

Connor lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Well, it just so happens that Gerri was the new thing a while back.”

“Mmh—Logan made it clear that she was more or less there as a placeholder,” you said, sipping on your cup, watching the siblings over the rim. “Come on—there’s no way Logan is handing the company over to a woman, much less a woman older than fifty. It’s a shame, because Gerri really could’ve been a great CEO had she been given an actual chance.”

It didn’t go past your notice to see Shiv’s face contort with dismay at your words. Not too long ago, she’d been under the impression that Logan was handing the company over to a woman—her. 

“I just think we need to be careful,” she said.

“Awh, what’s wrong? You all wedgied up because Rhea stood on your back and worked your arms like an elliptical?” asked Roman, which made both you and Connor snort with amusement.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m just saying, we should probably have a plan. You know, in case Dad does something rash.”

It was then that Connor was called away to record his message, and Kendall sauntered in just a minute later. His jacket and pants were noticeably rumpled and a pair of sunglasses sat on the bridge of his nose. Only assholes like Kendall would wear sunglasses indoors.

“Hey, what’s up?” he greeted everyone.

“You’re wearing the same clothes as yesterday—you want us to think you got laid. Nice try.” Both you and Roman giggled like schoolgirls, which only had the older man rolling his eyes. 

“Well, have fun discussing killing Rhea—” you began.

“There wasn’t anything about killing—” protested Shiv.

“I’m gonna head out. Gotta get some work done before the flight to Dundee. Which, is so fucking over the top, by the way. Even my parents are going for this. They weren’t there for any of my birthdays in the past twenty years, but sure, let’s go to Uncle Logan’s celebration for his fiftieth year working at Waystar.” You nudged Roman’s legs off of yours so you could stand up. 

Rome’s eyes widened. “Your parents are coming? Damn. Rhea really went all out, didn’t she?”

You frowned. “Feels more like a personal affront to me than anything. Not looking forward to seeing them, but whatever. See you guys later.”

They all murmured their farewells and you patted Roman’s knee softly before heading out.

Dundee was cold. So cold that you had to wear two layers of thermal socks, and your toes were still cold. Roman made fun of you the entire way into the hotel room, joking about icicles forming beneath your chin. 

Once you were finally inside, you cranked your heater up as high as it could go, shedding all your layers off with a grateful moan. It’d been a long flight, and you were exhausted.

Roman laid down on your bed, lazily turning his head to follow your movements as you flitted to and fro around your room, unpacking your essentials.

“There’s better ways to warm up than hanging your wrinkled button-ups,” he quipped. One of his brows quirked upwards in an almost seductive manner.

You laughed at that, fishing out articles of clothing from your luggage. “You’re all bark and no bite, Roman. Besides—you literally brought Tabitha to this event. Where even is she, anyway?”

With a shrug, he remarked absentmindedly, “Oh, she’s off exploring all the joys of Scotland.”

“So… grass and sheep?”

He laughed his hyena-laugh. “Yeah, grass and sheep.” Then, he propped himself up on an elbow to face you properly. “Did you bring a date?”

“Ugh. Didn’t want to bring one. Not with my parents coming. It’ll be a nightmare.”

Something in Roman’s eyes softened. “I would’ve been your date if, uh, if I hadn’t already asked Tabs. To be fair, I asked her before I knew about your parents. I can kick her back to America right now if you ask.”

You paused in your ministrations. “Stop it. I like Tabs. She’s nice. And I wouldn’t have wanted you to be my date out of pity, anyway.”

Roman lifted his shoulders in a slow shrug, lips pursed. “It wouldn’t be pity if I wanted to.”

A beat of silence. 

You blew out a sigh. “I’m really here for the image. I’ll say hi to my parents, and then avoid them for the rest of the night.”

“I can help you with avoiding them.”

“Hm?”

“Gerri wants me to secure funding for Waystar to go private. As a… back up plan, in case everything combusts into fuckin’ flames. She wants me to target Eduard. Seduce him, or whatever. You can come with—butter him up with all your oozy corporate rank and that—that pretty face on your face. He wouldn’t be able to resist if we double-combo him.” Roman shot you a lopsided smile that only lifted one corner of his lips. You pushed away the urge to coo at the fact that he called your face pretty. “Or… you can flit around with all of Dad’s cocksuckers and awkwardly bump into your parents two hundred times before the waterworks break out and you make an embarrassment of yourself in the middle of the celebration.”

Done with putting away your clothes, you made your way to the bed and sat down beside him, your shoulder pressed up flush over his. 

“You’re a lifesaver, Rome. Yeah, of course I’ll come.”

“Yeah, yeah. You can repay me with a blowjob.”

You laughed, but a small part of you wondered if he was serious.

“Any other ways I can repay you? None that could, uhm, potentially warrant a lawsuit?”

Roman scratched at his chin in thought. “Yeah, actually—what if we got, like, married?” His voice went all soft and high-pitched. Lilting. Tentative. 

Your eyes widened at first, then narrowed thinly. “What?” you asked, partially incredulous. He was joking, right?

Right?

“Not like—” He gestured aimlessly. “Not like that. Not actual marriage. Like something equivalent to that—like me chaining you down in the basement, or something. Like me kidnapping you and keeping you hostage.”

“Romeo, what the hell are you talking about?” You sat forward, your face all the closer to his. “In what world is that equivalent to marriage?”

Nervous anxiety clawed within his stomach. “Jesus Christ, I’m not talking about marriage. Just something on that fucking level of us being tied together. I don’t know, you chop off my dick, I chop off your tongue, whatever the fuck. You know, like, you eat me, I eat you—like they do in Germany.”

You were pretty sure that’s not what they did in Germany.

“You know what I mean.” His eyes were pleading, asking you for something you weren’t quite sure of.

“I… I don’t think I do?” You took one of his hands. “Rome, what’s going on? You’re being… weirder than normal. Did something happen with Tabitha?”

Because he was in love with you and he had no idea how to say it. 

The answer to Roman was simple: he just wouldn’t.

Hastily, Roman pulled away from your touch. He rolled off the bed in one single motion, almost tumbling over his own feet as he scrambled to the door. He tried to ignore your crestfallen expression watching him put more distance between the two of you.

“No, nothing happened with Tabitha. Just, uh—just think about it. I’ll text you the details to meet Eduard. Bye!” He was already halfway out the door with his last word.

You screwed your lips to the side in puzzled exasperation, and blew out a heavy sigh.

The pub was nearly empty, save for a snogging couple near the back, and a few scattered about the seats casually sipping their ale as they watched the soccer match on the mounted television above the bar. Amongst them was Eduard, standing out like a sore thumb with his crisp suit and his dark, slicked-back hair. Just the sight of him seemed to cost money.

“My God, you smell like cotton candy—I almost want to lick your neck. Don’t you want to lick his neck, Y/N?” Roman asked instead of greeting him like any regular person would.

You shot him a half-hearted glare before sticking your hand out. Roman had always been one to overstep boundaries. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Asgarov.”

“Oh, please, Eduard is fine. And the pleasure is all mine,” he languidly drawled, eyes darting up and down your form as a pleased smile curled the corner of your lips. He firmly clasped your palm in a handshake. “I’ve heard much about you—general manager… the glue of the company, some people say. But Roman never mentioned that you were so beautiful.”

A large part of Roman’s insides bristled with hostility, an emotion he couldn’t quite put his finger on, but he plastered on a strained smile anyway. “Yup, yeah, forgot to mention. But, uh, yeah, thanks for coming, man. My dad’s going to be very pleased when he sees old friends and whatnot…” He waved the bartender over to order himself a pint, and added on a non-alcoholic beverage for you—he knew you didn’t like to drink during the day. Then, he caught sight of the television. “What’s this? Who’s playing?”

“Scottish,” replied Eduard, taking a sip of his own beer. “I’m thinking of getting in.”

 Your eyebrows raised a notch. “Mmh, smart choice. Lots of buried money in European soccer leagues.”

Eduard spared you a warm smile.

A frown crossed Roman’s features—he was starting to regret inviting you, even though he’d been the one to suggest you flirt him up. 

“Scottish kicky-ball,” he remarked. “Looks like two eunuchs trying to fuck a letterbox.”

His foul comment went largely ignored by the two of you. 

Eduard was certainly an attractive man, you thought once you watched his tongue draw out to run along his lips in thought. “I’m liking the look of Hibs,” he said, eyes trained on the television, flitting down to glance at you for a second. “Or Hearts. I’m undecided.”

“Hearts?” asked Roman. “That’s my dad’s team. The only childhood relic he can stomach.”

Hazy memories of seven-year-old you peeking over the expensive leather couches to see what your godfather was watching on screen came across your mind. It always cycled through the same three channels: ATN, soccer, and old black-and-white English films from the fifties. You never stayed for long, always darting out of the room in fear of him turning to see you there, watching along with him. But from the little that you did catch a glimpse of—you could only barely recall the green insignias and jerseys of the Hibs on the screen.

“I think he was a Hibs fan, no?” you asked, thanking the bartender when he slid your drink over. 

Roman scoffed. “Pfft—I think I’d know which team dad likes.” You didn’t bother trying to argue with him. After all, your childhood memories weren’t exactly the most reliable source.

With a half-minded hum, Eduard said, “I’ve got an agent in Spain. I buy the club, he loans me nine shit-hot players. Climb the ladder, take the second Champion’s League space, UEFA goes full European super-league, flip it, walk away.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but it sounds fucking slick, dude,” Roman replied, sipping on the frothy part of his drink. “Slicker than cum on a dolphin’s back.”

“You want in?” asked Eduard.

“Mmh, maybe. But before all that—can we talk about what we talked about before? You know, a major injection, or even taking us private. Have you talked to your dad?” asked Roman. 

A smile and a nod. “It’s a conversation we can have—I have total, three-sixty latitude to work on my father’s behalf.”

“Great. Yeah, cool. No, me too. Yup.”

He didn’t, but you wisely kept your mouth shut. 

“Weird, how much we’re the same,” said Roman, playfully punching Eduard’s shoulder.

“Yeah, you guys are practically twins,” you quipped, smiling over the rim of your glass. “Couldn’t tell the two of you apart.”

The dark-haired man tilted his head. “Buy them with me. We’ll split it fifty-fifty.”

“I, uh…” Roman spared you a look, silently asking you if he was being stupid with his rashness. “I don’t really see a downside, other than zero knowledge or interest in Scottish football. But, yeah! Hearts. Sounds fun.”

“Hibs,” you said.

Roman wrinkled his nose. “Hearts.”

“Hearts, it is,” said Eduard.

It wasn’t Hearts. 

After Kendall’s laughable rap song about—what was it—stanning his dad and calling him the OG, Roman had broken the news that he’d bought the Hearts club as a present for Logan on such a special day.

Logan fixed the three of you with a blank stare. 

“The Hearts?” he echoed.

Roman spread his arms, wiggling the tips of his finger in a sad rendition of jazz hands. “Mhm.”

“Hearts Football Club?”

Roman nodded.

Shiftily, Logan looked towards you. He always looked to you for clarification when he couldn’t understand his son—which was quite often.

“Uhm, Roman bought the Hearts for you,” you said, voice small.

“It’s your team, right?” Rome asked.

A beat of silence.

“I’m Hibs,” said your godfather.

You fucking knew it.

“You’re Hibs,” parroted Roman, his shoulders beginning to droop. “Really? Are you sure? I thought you were Hearts—I’m pretty sure you were Hearts, dad.”

Scratching at his chin, Logan softly said, “You know what, maybe you’re right. Hm. How would I know what team I’ve supported all my fucking life? Who knows—maybe I supported Kilmarnock. Or Fucklechester Rangers? I mean, how could I possibly know?”

Roman recoiled as if he’d been kicked. Eduard patted his shoulder, and brushed his hand along your lower back as he slipped away, chest burning with secondhand embarrassment. 

“Sorry, Uncle Logan, there’s just been a, uh, a miscommunication—” you said, hastily tugging Roman away. The two of you wove through the crowd until you got out of the large room, into one of the quieter halls. 

You chewed on your bottom lip, watching Roman frustratedly pace back and forth in front of you. Just as you opened your mouth to speak, he snapped out, “I thought he was fucking Hearts, dude!”

“... I told you, Ro.”

He scowled. “Ugh. Shut up.”

Before you could ask if he could maybe switch somehow, two figures pushed through the doors, coming to stand in front of you. You tore your gaze away from the flustered man, fixing your eyes on—

Fuck.

“It’s lovely to see you, Y/N,” said your mother. In her hand was a glass of wine, half empty. “You’ve grown quite a bit. Have you gained weight?”

She reached out, but you immediately stepped back, closer to Roman. 

After getting over your initial shock, you cleared your throat and tentatively responded, “Hi, mom. Dad.”

The couple gave you an awkward onceover. It’d been years since you last saw them, with maybe one or two texts exchanged every year for the holidays. Though, even that wasn’t a guarantee.

“We, uhm, we saw you rush out with Roman here and thought we’d say hello,” said your father, sparing you a terse smile.

“Wow.” Roman, unsurprisingly, inserted himself into the conversation. “And the parents of the year award goes to…”

“You thought you’d say hello. Jesus—I haven’t seen either of you in fucking forever and the first thing you do is nitpick at my appearance?” you growled, fists clenching by your side. “Listen, if you want to be in my life, then be in my life. But you can’t pretend that everything is okay when you see me and then promptly waltz off and disappear for another decade or two.”

Your mother sipped at her wine, at a loss for words. They glanced at each other, both wearing a mildly guilty expression, but had really nothing to defend themself with.

With an angry scoff, you stormed back into the room where Logan was about to give his closing speech, shoulder roughly knocking into your father’s as you brushed past him. 

Roman scratched the back of his head, left alone with your parents. 

“For the record, Y/N is doing fucking great without either of you. You know—crunching those numbers, being a goddamn messiah for the lower-level employees, fucking the boss. All that jazz.” He grinned and hum-laughed when their eyes widened in shock, and sauntered in after you. It wasn’t exactly that white of a lie. You’d given him a handjob and the two of you technically had phone sex—would those two activities put together constitute as one whole traditional, in-person fuck?

He’d come in to stand beside you and Tabitha just in time to hear his father make the announcement.

“... And I shall be appointing Rhea Jarrell as my Chief Executive Operator.”

The crowd burst into applause. Roman clapped with a faux-surprised expression. When he glanced at you, you were wiping the corner of your eyes with the back of your palm and hastily clapped along.

Once the cheers began to mellow away, Roman stopped clapping to lace his fingers through the gaps of yours, squeezing tight. Your eyes watered even more at the contact, but you squeezed back in gratitude.

There was an interview of  James Weissel on the television: a whistleblowing interview tossing Gerri, Kendall, and Tom into the stinking shitpot that was the cruise incidents, accusing the three of covering up McClintock’s actions. Logan had shut it off before anybody could finish watching.

Whilst everyone was busy prattling off about how bad of a situation this was, Gerri seemed to be the one lighthouse amidst the storm.

“I say we tell the truth,” she calmly said, adjusting her glasses to sit higher up her nose. “The family knew nothing of this. We throw Mo overboard. Mo, bad apple. Jim Weasel, bad apple. Spies a book deal—sotto voce, backed by Sandy and Stewy. All corporate fuckery, no real concern. In terms of historic shit? I say we give up Bill. He should’ve let us know what he discovered rather than cleaning up without telling us the details.”

Bill had been the old Tom before Tom was, well, Tom.

And so there was the strategy: letting Bill take the fall, and kill him off. It wasn’t… a decision you necessarily felt good about, but it was the least messy the situation could be.

Things felt like they’d be smoothed over, just for a little bit.

But then Siobhan came in, phone clutched tightly in her hand. “Gil is going to call for hearings.”

This stirred up quite a murmur in the room. Both Kendall and Frank sat up in their seats with incredulous questions on the tip of their tongues.

“Yeah, Senate Commerce. Probably House, too.” 

Gerri was on her phone in an instant. “Buckle up folks,” she said while scrolling through the news. “We’re going to get an invite to the national latrine. See who’s going to take a public dump.”

“Mr. Fuck is going to Washington,” Shiv sighed.

It was then that Logan let out an ear-splitting bellow of rage. It shocked both you and Roman into flinching. 

“NO! I CAN’T HAVE THIS NOW!” he screamed in distress.

There was a long moment of silence. 

In a leveled tone, you asked Shiv, “Who’s testifying?”

“Uh, well… well, they’d want Dad.”

Kendall quickly protested, “No, we can’t—we won’t let that happen—”

“Protect the egg chamber!” said Roman. Nobody could quite tell if he was being sarcastic or not. 

It was then that Hugo suggested Gerri and Tom to testify. The group went back and forth for a little while longer on what the play would be, but it was quite clear that everybody was already settled with Gerri and Tom going up there. 

To your surprise, Logan called for you and Roman out of the room. 

A part of you wondered if he’d beat Roman over the head with his fancy business shoe for buying the wrong soccer team. You certainly wouldn’t put it past him, especially in his already-agitated state. 

“I need both of your help,” he told the two of you once you were out of the room, lingering by the foot of the pristine staircase. 

“Need someone to run to the store for smokes?” Roman asked, his hands propped on his hips.

“This’ll go on all night… and it might not be okay,” your godfather said.

This made you tilt your head. “Will this really sway the shareholders into folding? It happened under our noses three decades ago, and the perpetrator is dead.”

“The very fact that we’re being called to testify will spook the shareholders. I’m on a knife’s edge.” He grunted softly as he lowered himself to sit on one of the lower steps of the cold staircase. “Ten bad minutes on camera, and that could be it. The end.”

Roman’s brows raised. “The end? Come on, Dad.”

“I need the two of you to chase down the sovereign wealth money,” said Logan.

You and Roman glanced at one another. Was he being serious? 

“Right. Uhm… I mean—that’s… it’s a cool idea, but it’d be a stretch, no?” Roman tentatively brought up. 

Logan leaned forward, shifting his weight onto his elbows, which were resting upon his knees. Though he had made himself physically smaller, he’d always be the biggest presence in the room. “We need that central Asian money. It’s a time out from the responsibilities of being a public company. That’s a fucking lifeline, if I’ve ever seen one.”

“They’d be taking on a massive amount of debt. That’s a… huge responsibility, Uncle Logan.” 

The older man snorted. “Which is why I’m making you go with him. Make sure he doesn’t fuck up. Keep it under wraps. And bring Karl and Laird with you, as well, for the financial matters.” There was a pause as he studied the two of you. “Can you do it?”

Roman scratched anxiously at the back of his head. “Fuck, Dad, I want to say I can. But, I’ll be honest—if it’s, like, really important… I mean, I can say I can do it—like one of those firefighters in the movies. But I don’t know if—”

“You act the fuckleknuckle, but you know… people like you.” 

There it was. A narrow slant of light. It wasn’t real—at least, you didn’t think it was—but it was warmth regardless.

Roman’s features twisted. “It’s a really big fucking deal.”

“Nah. It’s getting the right number from the right suit. Getting your dick in there is easy. Getting into bed—that’s the hard part,” said his father. “You can do it. Both of you can.”

You scuffed your shoe against the floor just as Roman’s nose twitched. 

“Yeah. Sure, dad, I got it.”

Logan pushed himself off the staircase, placing a hand on each of your shoulders. The light was warm, and far too addicting. He smiled softly. 

It wasn’t real, you had to remind yourself. It’s never real. But did that really matter? Did it?

“You’re brilliant, my dear. A real force to reckon with. I trust you to hammer the nail right on its head,” he said. 

You swallowed harshly. “I hope we won’t disappoint, Uncle.”

When he pulled away, he began to make his way towards the doors once more. “Keep me close,” he said. 

And with that, he was gone.

Roman let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding. 

“Why does it feel like we just dug our own graves? I feel like I’ve got fuckin’ dirt in my eyes,” he lamented just as you leaned your head onto his shoulder. “You know, if the company ever kills you off, I’ll quit. I don’t know how I’d do it around here without you.”

“All bark, still no bite,” you quietly told him. “You wouldn’t leave the company. Not on your own free will.”

Like a caged dog: it was only able to escape if their owner opened the door for them.

“I’ll kill myself if they kill you. I mean it—I’ll eat a fucking silver bullet.”

“How romantic.”

“Mhm—we’re like fuckin’... Romeo and Juliet.”

He smiled, and so did you.

“C’mon. Let’s go watch the grown-ass men I bought kick around balls for a bit,” said Roman.

Eduard greeted you at the soccer team’s practice field with a kiss on the cheek, Roman with a firm handshake. 

“It’s good to see you,” you told him with a genuine smile. 

“Good to see you guys, too,” he replied. His expression was well-guarded behind a pair of dark shades. “With everything I’ve heard going down at Waystar, I was surprised you even showed up.”

With a shrug, Roman said, “I have nothing better to do, I promise. I’m gonna cut right to the chase here—do you think there’s any chance you guys have the muscle to take us private? Is that something that’s interesting to you and your dad?”

With nearly no hesitation, Eduard bobbed his head in an affirmative.

Shocked, Karl asked, “Really? That’s…”

Eduard spared the older man half of a grin. “Yes, we’re interested. It’ll look good as part of our portfolio, and we like the news expertise you can share.” Just as Laird began spewing off details to tell Logan, Eduard cut him off by saying, “Actually, Roman, Y/N—can you guys do it? The two of you make quite a team. You and your… bum-boys here can come to Turkey tomorrow? Pitch to me and my Dad?”

You and Roman exchanged earnest glances, as if speaking to each other telepathically. You were sure you could push back your work at Waystar for a few days to settle the privatizing deal. 

“Absolutely. I think we can definitely do that,” said Rome, with a pleased hum. Then, he turned back to fix his gaze on Laird and Karl. “Ain’t that right, bum-boys?”

 “Why Turkey?” you asked, brows raising. “I mean, I can pitch to you anywhere, but why, you know, all the way across the ocean?”

“There’s an investing conference in Bursa. Everyone will be there—we can get into it. Unless you have any objections…?”

Hastily, you shook your head. “No, no. This is great. Thanks for the opportunity.”

“No problem,” said Eduard, watching the ball fly across the field, landing into the goal. “I like you guys. Really.”

The coach called for the team to huddle up, allowing for the owners to say a few words. A part of you wondered if Rome even remembered the name of the FC he had bought.

“Great session, guys. And listen, for Saturday, you have the ability, you have the mentality. Watch that press doesn’t leave you exposed on the turnover, and you fucking got this. Rome?” Eduard turned to your friend, who hadn’t really prepared anything to say.

Roman fixed you with a panicked look, but you nudged him forward with a purse of you lips.

Scratching the back of his head, he awkwardly started, “Uh, yeah, hey guys! Really proud to be associated with all of you. Uh, well, what the fuck can I tell you that you don’t already know? You, uh, you got all this guys, don’t worry about it. ‘Cause you guys are a team, and, uh, when a team… is a team… it can’t actually physically be beaten. It’s impossible. So, go hard, go fast—uh, go you… lovely bastards.” The team glanced at each other and began to awkwardly clap, before Rome looked to you and said, “Anything else you want to add?”

“Me?” you hissed under your breath. “Rome, I’m not an owner—”

“Just say something—!” he whispered back, yanking you forward by the arm.

Stiff, you waved at the litter of sweaty, jerseyed men in front of you. “Hi. Yeah, I’m sure you guys know I’m not one of the team’s owners, but I was there during the business negotiations as Roman’s, uh… co-partner. All I can do now is wish you all the best of luck for your next match—get some rest, eat some good food, keep your eyes on the prize. And if any of you want to get in touch with Waystar Royco for any sort of PR pitches to get your face out there… Coach will have me and Roman’s contact details.” With a smile, you stepped back, shoulder brushing against Roman’s.

“Fuck you,” he muttered bitterly. “Did you rehearse that in your head or something? How’d you manage to perfectly squeeze business into a fucking pep talk?”

You grinned and pinched his cheek lightly. “Go hard and go fast, you lovely bastard,” you mocked, voice rife with fondness, chortling when he swatted your hand away.

Before you knew it, you and Roman (and the bum-boys) were in Turkey, pitching to Eduard and his team. You had tried practicing a little the night before, but Roman had tossed all the flashcards away out of part-frustration and part-cockiness, assuring you that things would be fine. 

Now, as he was speaking, he seemed pretty confident in his own words. The two of you made a good team, after all.

“Look at the cash flow,” said Roman. “We are undervalued. I think tech just had everybody shitting their pants about legacy media, but really, the wheel turns.”

You nodded with an emphatic smile. “It’s true. No matter how much content moves to streaming sites, people will always want to look for something physical. Something you can feel and experience outside of home—hence Waystar’s adventure parks, and films to experience in theaters.” You made great effort to skirt around the touchy subject of cruises at the moment. 

“Most tech is overvalued. We’re profitable. We’re real money,” Roman added, growing more assured of himself with your support. 

“Tech is always changing. Invest in one thing, and it’ll be outdated in a blink of an eye. Invest in things people will always need: news, broadcasting, life experiences… now that’s reliable.” Eduard flashed you a smile, as if he was already sold.

“This is a tremendous opportunity,” said Rome. “This is once in a lifetime. You get to buy into the US media landscape at the very top. The very top.”

Two of the men leaned forward to whisper indistinctly to one another. 

“It’s a lot of debt,” one of them said once he finally pulled away. “You sure you can pull it together?”

“Absolutely sure,” Roman said with a mild laugh, knowing things with money and debt were quite rocky at the moment, before pointing back at Laird. “Jaime here is the fucking master of leverage. He has structured some of the biggest LBOs in history.”

“Guilty as charged,” said the older man.

Before anyone could say anything else, the doors to the room opened, and a few men filed in, murmuring indistinctly to the security. Your brows pulled together upon seeing guns strapped to their forms.

Roman exchanged a worried look with you.

“Are they, uh… are they with you?” he asked Eduard, who got up off his seat to speak to them in hushed tones.

“Rome, they have guns,” you murmured as you placed a hand on his forearm, glancing back at Karl and Laird. “What’s going on?”

The atmosphere seemed to chill when Eduard turned back to the four of you.

“Hey, look, we’re good. We’re good. But, uh… we’re all gonna go with these gentlemen now, okay?” He raised his hands in an almost placating manner, as if trying to tame a nervous mare. 

 Roman pointed at the armed men. “We’re going with them?” He laughed nervously, wondering if this was one big, elaborate joke. “Uh, no… I don’t think we—uh, who are these guys, exactly?”

Genuine fear began to curdle in your stomach when you watched the security walk out. “Dave just walked out. Hey, Eduard? I just—I need you to be honest with me. Are we in danger right now?”

Eduard worked his jaw in thought. “We’re just going to go with them now. Okay? It’ll be fine.”

“No, uh, I just—Can I just ask what this is in regards to?” Roman stepped in, high-strung. “Is this about the meeting? Is this a business thing?” 

Did I fuck it up and put a loaded gun to my own head? he wanted to say, but bit his tongue before he could.

With a sharp tone, you asked, “Our security guy, Dave, he just walked out with them. Where’d he go? Is he coming back?”

“Dave’s not coming,” said Eduard with pursed lips.

“He’s not coming?” Roman parroted. “Uhm… I would actually really like for Dave to come?”

“Dave is downstairs, we’ll go without him,” Eduard said in a calm tone. “Dave is a security risk. It’s better with these guys, okay?”

“Well, I know Dave, and I sure as hell don’t know these guys so… I think I’d prefer Dave—” you began to say, but was quickly cut off when Eduard put a hand on your shoulder and began leading your tense form out the room, Roman hot on your heels.

“It’s all good. It’s all under control,” Eduard murmured, though you highly doubted it. “There could be a situation, but we’re being looked after.”

A frown crossed Roman’s expression. “Oh, great. We’re being looked after. Fucking great. Laird—can you call Dave?”

They pulled out their phones, but the vested men with guns took the devices away just as quickly as it was pulled out. One stood in front of you with an expectant expression, and you complied with no resistance, handing him your phone, though not without a scowl.

“Great. They took my phone, and now I can’t contact my security, and now we’re going to die,” Roman said. When you looked at him, you could see genuine, restless fear dance over his irises. You didn’t quite know what to say, so you simply squeezed his arm as the two of you walked along.

The armed men led all of you to a crowded hotel lobby, where there seemed to be more hostages, more armed folk in similar attire. 

“Fuck,” Roman mumbled under his breath. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. This isn’t business, is it?”

“Doesn’t look very business-y,” replied Karl.

When someone passed by and their gun brushed against your arm, you flinched back into Roman, your lips pulling back in a snarl. “Eduard. Fuck—Eduard, where the fuck are you taking us?”

“Just relax. This is normal,” he said, shiftily.

Roman scoffed. “Oh, yeah. This feels really fucking normal. Is this—are these guys terrorists? Where’s my fucking security guy? Where’s Dave?”

For a moment, Eduard seemed at a loss for words. You could feel dread pile up in your stomach. “It’s just… it’s an administrative action function,” he reluctantly said.

“Mm, yeah, great, and what exactly is that—?” Roman began to ask, before halting his own question when he trained his gaze on a struggle across the lobby. “Oh, wow, look at that. Guy not being allowed to leave the hotel at gunpoint. That’s—uh, yeah. So what’s… what’s this administrative action function?”

Pursing his lips, Eduard finally fessed up, “There’s just a gathering here now, of us and some other investors, and—”

“Men with guns?” Roman impatiently chirped.

“Yeah, yeah, that, and their guys are some kind of… anti-corruption kind of guys and this is like—it’s like their conference. Or, uh, a party of some sort. And we’re all invited.”

Your eye twitched. “That’s really lovely, but uh, what if I don’t want to go?”

A scream from somewhere over the crowd echoed through the lobby. Glass shattering followed soon after. Karl paled and he anxiously picked at a hangnail.

Eduard sighed. “It’s the kind of party where you have to go. It would be… rude.”

Roman stared at the ground, at nothing in particular. “Well, uh, I guess I wouldn’t mind being just a tiny bit rude.”

It was becoming more and more clear that no amount of protests or questions would get you out of this situation—not with every exit manned by armed personnel. The hostages in the hotel were soon herded into a large hall, empty save for bare white chairs for people to sit on. Eduard was led into a different room, and you briefly wondered if that’d be the last time you ever saw him.

You blew out a breath as you took a seat. Roman was quick to snare Laird into playing a multitude of games, like rock, paper, scissors, eye spy, and fuck, marry, kill. You didn’t pay much attention to them, instead trying to figure out what you’d do with yourself once you got out of this situation. One thing was for sure: your therapist was going to have a field day hearing this. 

“Where do you think they’re taking them?” you asked the men beside you when they began grabbing hostages and shoving them out the doors. 

“Doesn’t look like they’re gonna be taking a tour of the spa,” said Laird.

“My advice,” Karl huffed, looking awfully sweaty, “just don’t look at anything. If you don’t look, you’re not a witness.”

You buried your face in your hands. “Wonderful. Brilliant advice, Karl. At least you didn’t tell me to just take it if they decided to shove their dicks into my mouth.”

“Woah!” exclaimed Roman, eyes widening. “That’s not going to happen. Right? That can’t happen.”

You spared him a shrug, slumping back against the chair. Though, you were quick to sit up straight again when Eduard emerged from the doors, making a bee-line for you and Roman.

“Hey, guys. It’s all good. Things are good. So, uh, my president’s daughter’s husband has asked him to take closer control of some key assets. It’s anti-corruption, but it’s a bit of a power-grab. Some Turkish acquiescence, but it’s all in play.”

If you had to be honest, you understood very little of what he was saying. Whether it was because of your panic-hazed mind, or because he was merely being ambiguous, you couldn’t quite tell.

“Not to, uh, make this all about us…” began Roman, tentative, “but are they going to shoot us at any point?”

“No one is getting shot,” assured the bearded man. “Look, it’s complicated, but with the Zeynal here—there’s some interest about the deal.”

Deal? 

Both you and Roman glanced at each other. 

“Uh, fuck. Okay. The deal, sure,” said Rome.

“One thing they wanted clarity on was—how could they be sure the deal wouldn’t be blocked by your government?” Eduard asked.

You stuck your tongue against your cheek when Roman shook his head, “Well, it wouldn’t. My father has a lot of sway. I mean, he can’t lock up his opponents in a hotel, but, well, he kinda could.”

“And you’re the target of another bid? Won’t that be a problem?”

Sandy and Stewy. “Not a problem,” you quickly said. “They’re all bark, very little bite. If the price is right, we can easily reach a settlement before the shareholder meeting.”

With a nod, Eduard patted your knee, and he got up to leave—talk to his associates once more. 

“That went well,” said Laird, mildly surprised. 

“Yeah… a little too well,” Roman mused.

Hours later, Eduard returned, calling for the four of you to follow him.

It was a pitch. A messy pitch—one you clearly weren’t in the right mindspace for. One where the audience had clear smudges of coke lining their nostrils, dusting their tables. One that had a lot of money thrown into the empty promises, accompanied by high smiles and wandering eyes. It made you feel sick, and Roman clearly wasn’t a fan of it, either. Laird seemed to be satisfied with the mutual agreements, though. He heard money, and he immediately thought he was safe.

But the agreements didn’t feel quite real. None of it felt real. It was all bullshit, you wanted to yell at their face. Being held at gunpoint to play business in front of the coked out billionaires was not your preferred method of saving the company, especially when none of the settlements felt cemented. This wasn’t safe money to bet the entire company on—it might’ve not been money at all, in fact.

By the end of everything, the ambassador had arranged for a plane to finally get you out of the country. You fell asleep as soon as you sat down in your seat, the long hours going without sleep finally catching up to you. Roman curled up in the seat beside you, his head on your shoulder. He stayed awake the entire flight, listening to your steady breaths.

The Mediterranean. The Roys were on a fancy yacht in the Mediterranean.

It would’ve sounded like a pleasant getaway, if you weren’t dead-tired, having just returned from being held hostage at gunpoint. You just wanted to go home. Logan, however, wanted you and Rome by his side—and who were you to say no to the top dog?

As the speedboat skidded to a stop by the yacht, cheers erupted from siblings, along with Gerri and Frank, Greg and Tom. Roman slid his sunglasses on as he clambered onto the larger boat’s deck. 

“Here they are! The heroes of Asia!” exclaimed Shiv, a flute of champagne in hand. She was the first to greet you, taking your hand and helping you out of the speedboat. After a kiss to your cheek, you spared her an exhausted smile.

“The lions of Turkey! Welcome back, guys!” chimed Greg. He leaned down to embrace his cousin, but Roman was quick to push his face away. Greg didn’t dare try to hug you after that, merely waving from afar.

Frank clapped a hand on your shoulder. “Back like Odysseus. Did you guys ride out on sheep?”

Snorting, Shiv added, “Yeah, I heard you took down an entire army alone, bro.”

“That would’ve been really traumatizing if you weren’t already so fucked up,” Gerri told Roman, who simply frowned.

“Yeah, who’d you suck off to get out?” Kendall inserted.

Tom smiled widely from behind Shiv. “You were staying at Four Seasons, right? How did you guys escape? Did you—did you build a glider out of a caesar salad?”

Roman squinted at nothing in particular from behind the dark lens of his sunglasses. “Uh, you know what? It was actually fucking scary and we thought they might kill us, but yeah…” The tips of his fingers wiggled in a poor rendition of jazz hands. “Hardee-har-har, caesar salads, har-har. So funny.”

An awkward silence ensued between the small group. You scritched at your neck with a wince, wanting nothing more than a shower and a nap.

“Sorry, dude. Seriously,” said Kendall.

Roman snorted. “Yeah, no. They just raped me a little, but I’m no hero. They stuck their cocks down Y/N’s throat, too. Tell them.”

He nudged you and you shook your head tiredly. “They didn’t do that.”

“See? It got so bad that she trauma-blocked the memories. Shame on all of you,” he said, propping his fists on his hips. 

Feeling mildly guilty, Shiv had the gall to rub her hand on her brother’s shoulder. “Sorry, Rome.”

“It’s fine. I’m just tired, or whatever. It was funny, actually. Karl almost shat in a bucket and I have it on my phone, so we can fully humiliate him in our daily jerkfest later,” said Rome, tugging you to sit down with him on a large white seat.

“So how’d it all go, business-wise?” Connor asked, eyeing the both of you curiously. “Or was that forgotten?”

Before either of you could say anything, Laird stepped in, shaking his head with a wide smile. “Oh, we can’t say anything about that. Confidential stuff. But they—they did good.”

“Oh! Okay. Promising!” Connor exclaimed, shooting the both of you a grin. “Congrats, you guys.”

Unease crackled between the two of you. When you locked gazes with Roman, he merely lifted one of his shoulders in a shrug, lips pursed. The deal probably wouldn’t go through. It was all empty promises, powdered with a layer of cocaine. 

The two of you failed. And maybe that was okay.

Your hand found his, and his head knocked against yours. He drank the beer Shiv handed him, and you drank in the salty air of the sea.

After you’d finally managed to pry yourself away from Roman (or, more accurately, Roman away from you), you had yourself a nice, hot shower, and a long-overdue nap. When you drowsily blinked back into consciousness, it was early afternoon, the sun still high up in the cloudless sky. A part of you wondered how you hadn’t just slept through the entire day.

You cleaned yourself up and changed into loose loungewear, heading down a story of the yacht, where you caught sight of the Roy siblings hanging by the pool (minus Connor, who was discussing matters of the play).

Roman waved at you limply. “Hey, sleeping beauty. You were knocked out for a while. I poked you in all your ticklish spots and you didn’t even stir.”

With a sigh, you curled yourself up into the cushioned spot beside him, Shiv on your other side. On her right was Tom, who had his gaze trained on Greg on the other side of the pool—the Roy’s cousin was… getting his toes looked at by the medic? You weren’t sure, and you didn’t quite want to know.

“You know, if you snuck into my room while I’m asleep and prodded me like a corpse, at least don’t fess up to it. You weirdo,” you said once you finally tore your gaze away from Greg, wrinkling your nose at Rome fondly.

“Don’t act like you don’t enjoy it,” Roman whistled, to which Shiv let out a loud groan of complaint. 

Sloshing water from the pool drew your attention to Kendall. “You good, Y/N? Sorry about—if I was, like, insensitive earlier—”

“It’s fine,” you quickly replied. “They were never going to shoot us, anyway. It was all just… theatrics.”

Theatrics. Puppets and strings.

Kendall smiled loosely. 

“So, uh, how was DC?” you asked the older man as he leaned against the rim of the pool. “They had it on the TV for a bit when we were waiting to give our pitch.”

He nodded, water dripping from his hair. “Yeah, it was—it was pretty fucking real.”

“You did good,” Roman chirped, adjusting the sunglasses on his nose. 

Scoffing, Kendall shrugged his shoulders. “Okay. And what? I did good for—for a crackhead? For a moron on crack?” His voice was lilting with incredulity.

“Nope. You did good, Ken,” he said.

Shiv nodded. “Yeah. You killed it.”

Kendall wasn’t used to genuine praise from his siblings. It was usually edged with an insult, laced with sarcasm or ire. 

“It was Tom that, uh… that didn’t really persuade everyone quite as well,” you said, sending an apologetic grimace to Shiv’s fiance.

“You’re being too nice. He shat his pants and puked all over the floor,” Roman huffed with an amused smile. 

Tom pulled a cross face. “I didn’t—!” He drew in a sharp breath. “You know, a lot of people are saying I was deadcatting. Yeah. So like—dead cat on the table. Everyone’s looking at this dead cat, and not… not talking about your dad.”

Shiv pursed her lips. “Right. Sure, yeah, you drew the fire. Yeah.”

Both you and Roman exchanged humored looks. 

“So, what’s going on with Rhea? She’s out, right?” Roman asked a beat later.

“Mhm. Melted. But she’s agreed not to say anything publicly until after the shareholder meeting,” said Shiv.

You briefly wondered why she backed away, but chalked it up to immense financial risk and potential ethical demise of her career. Good for her. 

“Instead of Rhea, whose big hairy foot is going to slip into the glass slipper?” Roman queried. “Washington Ken here?”

His older brother clambered out of the pool, grabbing a towel to dry himself off. “Me? Uh, no. Nope. I mean—Rome, you brought the golden goose home.”

The two of you frowned at the same time. Roman let out a loud sigh.

“Could be anyone,” you said. “We’re right back to square one.”

“Yeah. Could be. I mean, why is Greg here?” Kendall shot a look over his shoulder to glance at his cousin, peering between his own toes.

Roman snorted. “I always ask that question.” Then, he patted your thigh and leaned against you, enjoying the warmth of your skin against his. “I did think—you know, when I thought they were going to vacuum out my innards and fill me with concrete or something—like… if we come through this, is there a thing where we, like, talk to each other about stuff? Normally?”

In a strange alien-baby voice, Shiv mocked, “You wanna twalk to each other nwormally?”

Kendall snickered and tacked on, “You wanna twalk abwout the big shit?”

“Yeah, let’s twalk abwout the big shit!”

“We can talk about—our feewings!”

The siblings joking around for a rare moment reminded you of when you were all younger, with missing teeth and scraped knees. When Shiv’s hair would still be done up in a ponytail and yours would be twisted into pigtails. Simpler times—when things weren’t all that simple but you, in your blissful ignorance, had thought they were. 

Though you really didn’t want to laugh, you tried your best to smother down a chuckle, making Roman send you a betrayed glare. 

“Wow. Really? You, too?” He lightly shoved you away, and you and Shiv burst into a fit of giggles when you knocked into her. “How am I the most mature one here?”

“Sowwy, Wome,” you crooned in the same alien-baby voice. He kicked at your foot, then hooked his leg over yours.

The laughter dulled away when the whirring of helicopter blades descended over the yacht.

Logan was here.

“Emotional gunship incoming,” said Kendall.

“Yeah. Send out the distress signal,” Shiv added, the smile on her lips fading away as she looked up to see her father fly down. “We’re under attack.”

Logan was smiling. It wasn’t often that he smiled. 

He greeted you with a chaste kiss to the cheek, and Roman with a pat to the shoulder. It was warm in the light—brief, but warm nonetheless.

When he hoarded the two of you, along with bum-boys Laird and Karl into a separate room, he immediately asked, “Are you two alright? I heard it got a bit tasty.”

Tasty wasn’t exactly the right word for it, you thought. 

“Mmh, we’re fine. I’ve had worse experiences at hotels before,” Roman languidly commented, shrugging it off. 

Logan tilted his head. “Did they look after you? I spoke to the White House.”

“Someone came and told us there was a warship,” you said, pursing your lips. “Felt a bit extreme.”

“Knowing us gun-handy Americans, I bet it was already there,” Roman snorted, pouring himself a drink. “The ambassador took us for a shitty lunch—you know, sorry that you were held at gunpoint, have a cheese sandwich.”

Logan gestured for all of you to take a seat. “So… on the money. What’s the situation?”

“The kids did great,” said Laird, which made Roman audibly gag. “I think, Mr. Roy, you’ll be able to go private. Eduard and his father have titular responsibility for the sovereign wealth but the president’s daughter’s husband, Zeynal, is the key guy now. The two of ‘em killed it with him.”

Shrugging, Roman said, “Well, it was clear Eduard was getting sidelined. Zeynal figured out who we were, and I thought we were gonna be taken to get a fucking chainsaw massage but… nope. We had an hour, we pitched hard, and they said they wanted in.”

“Too modest,” Laird emphasized, brows raising. “This is the perfect opportunity.”

It wasn’t. It never was.

Karl went on to talk about the numbers, and Logan seemed quite pleased. 

“That’s great. That’s fucking fantastic!” announced Roman’s father.

Rome bit down on the inside of his cheek. He winced, and scratched at his head.

“I just… I do have to say one thing, dad…”

Panic flashed across Laird’s eyes. “Roman, we’re good.”

Ignoring him, Roman said, “I mean, we had a good talk with Zeynal and he said, with his mouth, that he wanted in and that’s great and all… but if this is really serious for us, I think I actually do have to say that it feels like it’s… probably horseshit.”

A beat of silence.

Laird’s eyes twitched.

Clearing your throat, you said, “Yeah, I just wanna make it clear that they said they wanted in, but didn’t sign anything yet. I mean, it’s not like we had any documents on hand but… words mean nothing. Uncle Logan, I don’t know if it’s… really smart to bank the entire future of the company on words of drug-addled men taking a piss out of you.”

Logan’s brows raised.

“It was flaky,” Roman added. “There was a lot of shit going on.”

The head man glanced at Karl, who remained deathly quiet, and then back to you. 

“Roman, they want to rebalance their portfolio for, uh, for a variety of geopolitical reasons,” began Laird. “It’s very European-focused, and he wants to tilt Western Hemisphere. It’s all very logical! I know that it’s a lot of money, and that can be very scary, but it makes sense.”

“All due respect, Laird, but I really don’t think they give a shit about adding us to their portfolio,” you said, voice hesitant. “They know we’re in debt. They know we’re in hot water with a large sector of the company. Why would they want in at all, much less hand over a ten billion dollar investment like it’s nothing?”

Roman sucked in a sharp breath. “Sorry that we’re worrying our pretty little heads, Laird, but if they’re rebalancing their portfolio, it’d be fucking insane to do it over one ten-bil mega deal like it’s nothing.”

“Yeah, it’d be more sensible that they invest into several different markets around the globe,” you agreed. “None of this feels right.”

“It doesn’t matter what it feels like,” stressed Laird. “They said yes!”

With a frown, Roman retorted back, “Maybe, sure, they said yes! And there’s a ten or twenty percent chance that you’d make, like, a hundred million bucks with this deal. That’s so exciting! But if we miss, we could be fucked.”

Logan’s expression was hard to read. Anger? Disbelief? Disappointment? Acceptance? You couldn’t quite tell.

Swallowing hard, you said, “If we go through with this and none of it turns out to be real, we’d go straight over the edge. No votes, no political gain, no money.”

Finally, Logan murmured, “If it falls halfway through, it’d be terminal.”

A vein popped out on Laird’s head. “But if it works… just one step forward, and you’d be free.”

You couldn’t help but scoff. “Free from what? Just because we go private doesn’t mean we can do fuck all.”

Before Laird could argue back, Logan fixed his stare onto Roman. “Son?” he asked.

“Dad, I have to say, I’ve done a little bullshitting in my time—and Zenyal was a cokey, lying, 3 AM scotch and see-you-in-the-morning man. He won’t follow through.”

With a frustrated groan, Laird angrily got up from his seat.

Roman shook his head. “Dad, I wish it was real. I really fucking do. But it’s not—and we have to step away.”

When Logan turned his stare onto you, you nodded in agreement with Roman. 

“Karl?” your godfather asked.

The man buckled under the scrutiny. “You can’t lean on this,” he said. “Not now.”

His mind finally made, Logan got up onto his feet. “I’m sorry, Jaime. Keep exploring, keep talking. I cannot pile my chips on something that isn’t solid.”

“Excellent,” sighed Jaime. He looked at you, then at Roman. “You wanna talk solid? Maybe take a look at your kid there. Does he sound solid to you? And—thanks for the support, Karl. I hope you enjoy the king’s favors, because you know what you’re looking at if you don’t go private. Someone has to pay the price. Someone is going to go to jail, and I won’t be around to see it.”

With that, he dramatically took his leave. Roman tilted his head back and rolled his eyes.

“I wanna do the best thing. The most decent thing,” said Logan. His hand was on your shoulder for a moment, before he pulled away. “Tomorrow we’ll get into a discussion about our missteps and how we can indicate how sorry we are to the rest of the world. Get some rest, the both of you.”

As you clambered into bed, Roman unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it somewhere behind him. He’d followed you into the cabin, claiming that there were no available cabins left—and you knew he was lying, because you’d passed by several empty rooms on the way to yours, but you didn’t bother to protest.

“If you wanted to cuddle, you could’ve just asked.”

“Ugh, shut up.”

“You know, I overheard Tom and Shiv speaking to each other,” you said as you fluffed up a pillow to lay on. 

“Ooh. Is Tom the one getting shitcanned? No surprise there,” Roman replied, crawling next to you and laid down on his stomach, head resting on his crossed arms. 

“No. I mean, I don’t actually know who it’ll be, but—” You paused to smile, near-childish laughter falling from your lips. “I heard Tom saying he was excited for a threesome.”

“Ew! What? Ew! Tell me more,” Roman exclaimed, swatting at your arms and you shoved him back, laughing at his tone. “Oh, that’s so gross. Never pegged Tom as the type.”

“I don’t think it was Tom’s idea.”

“Ew!”

The two of you giggled about it some more, before you lolled your head over to face him. 

“Do you think it could be me?” you quietly asked. “Would Logan throw me to the sharks?”

Roman hummed. “Sometimes it feels like he likes you better than any of his own fucking kids. You’re not getting canned. It won’t make sense.”

“Hm.”

He threw an arm over your stomach. “But… it won’t be me, right?”

“I don’t know, Rome,” you told him honestly. “After today… I just don’t know. But I’ve got your back.”

The two of you basked in the comfort of each other’s quiet for a brief moment. You scooched closer to him and shut your eyes.

“You’re a really good friend, Rome.”

Something akin to an amused snort fell from his lips. “Pfft. Friend. I don’t think friends jerk off to the sound of each other’s voices. You’ve had your hand on my dick. Is that what friends do these days?”

“Friends with benefits, then.”

He brushed his lips along your shoulder, light as a feather, barely there. There was a strange ache in his chest. An ache that you also felt. The two of you ached together, unknowingly. 

“Hm. I like the sound of that. It’s like you’re my personal whore.”

“It’s a two-way street.”

“Yeah. You fuck me, I fuck you. You kill me, I kill you. Like they do in Germany.”

There it was again. What was with Roman and Germany?

“Sure. Like they do in Germany.”

It was hard to stomach breakfast with your restless nerves shooting adrenaline through your veins. You anxiously plowed through two apples and started on your third just when Logan stepped onto the lower level. Everybody’s attention piqued, their heads turning, postures stiffening up against the chairs around the dining table. 

When Gerri tentatively asked him who he had in mind as the sacrificial lamb, Logan waved her away.

“Enough. We stick together, alright? Most things don’t exist. The Ford motor company hardly exists—it’s just a time-saving expression for a collection of financial interests. But this exists, because…”

Roman leaned in close to mockingly whisper, “Family.”

“Family,” Logan finished. “We are a family. And so that’s why I think… I think the obvious choice is me.”

A ripple of shock coursed through the small group. Your eyes narrowed, unsure of what game Logan was playing at now.

“No,” Shiv vehemently said. “What? Dad, you—you can’t.”

Logan tilted his head. It wasn’t often he was told that he couldn’t. “Well, I may not be responsible, but the buck has to stop somewhere.”

The rest of the group erupted in protests. Tom, Kendall, Frank. They were all bleating sheep. Roman rolled his eyes.

“It doesn’t work,” Kendall elaborated. “When people find out Rhea isn’t coming in, we’d need stability. From you.”

Logan raised a single finger. “I need one meaningful skull to wave.” Wave didn’t seem quite the appropriate term. Chop off, maybe. Sever was a good one. “If the shareholders’ meeting was tomorrow, we lose. I need to persuade a number of big figures. So… would anyone like to say anything?”

Crackling silence. Across the table, Greg popped a fat green grape into his mouth.

“I’ll take care of whoever it is,” said Logan. “No one will be forgotten.”

Clearing his throat, Kendall ventured out, “Well, I mean, if we’re doing this, I don’t wanna spread shit around. We’re all loyal servants here. But, uh, I say this without malice aforethought, presumably, uhm, general counsel is the center of the web. Sorry, Gerri. I like you, I do.”

Logan reached out to put his hand over the blonde woman’s. “There is no one more loyal than Gerri,” he said, effectively dismissing the idea.

But you saw right through him. It wasn’t about Gerri’s loyalty. She wasn’t a big enough cut. 

“What about Frank?” Roman offered. Everyone was well aware of his disdain for the older man. “How come Frank is even here today?”

Full of ire, Logan’s old friend nodded his head. “Thanks, Roman. I see it. I could take it. I mean, I make sense.”

“Yeah. And after what he did to you? The whole boardroom coup?” Roman lifted a shoulder, convinced that Frank was the most obvious choice.

“Water under the bridge.” Logan brushed away once more. Still not big enough.

After a long while of stammering, Frank finally coughed out, “I would say objectively, considering my, uh, my indiscretion against the family makes me a less compelling sacrifice. Unlike—uhm, for instance, a loyal servant like Karl.”

Instead of defending himself, Karl decided to turn the blade right back around to Gerri. “My thing is, I guess, if Rhea is no more, then sadly, we’re back to having Gerri as named successor. So that fattens her up for the kill, in my opinion.”

“Everyone knows I was just a name on a piece of paper,” defended the woman, laughing incredulously.

“Oh, don’t put yourself down. I think you were always more than that,” scoffed Karl. “And, you know, the old copy book is a bit blotty. Expense accounts… daughter’s first class on the company coin…”

“Karl sounds good!” Tom chimed in. “Sausage thief,” he bitterly muttered, in reference to the entire Boar on the Floor debacle in Hungary.

“Gerri is theoretically kind of perfect,” said Connor.

“No,” Roman was quick to protest. “Nope. That’s bullshit. I disagree.”

Propping his joined hands on the table, Logan asked, “Why?”

“Why? Because that’s my opinion,” Roman said in a defensive manner.

“Yeah… but your reasoning?”

With a hasty glance to you, Roman hastily spun out, “Seriously, Gerri? To pay for cruises? We, what, we take out our senior woman? Haven’t we, you know—kidding, here, but—killed enough women already?”

“It’d look orchestrated. Gerri is just too obvious,” you said, wrinkling your nose. “Sexual misconduct cases three decades ago, and we’d be placing the blame on general counsel and simply wiping our hands clean? Not to mention it’d just make Waystar look more… anti-women if we went down that route.”

Roman nodded. “Listen, I think the obvious choice here is, and I hate to say it because he’s such a swell guy, but—” he made a whistling noise and pointed to the man sitting across from him, “Tom.”

“Excuse me?”

“I mean, you're the head of cruises, man.”

Kendall pursed his lips. “I gotta agree with Rome here. Tom, I fucking love you dude, but you shat the bed over Mo Lester.”

“But I was sent in there as the fucking beating man—I took the fucking beating!” 

Shiv shook the back of her head, making no effort to defend her husband.

“You got suckered in by Eavis,” said Kendall.

“I answered the questions!”

“You don’t answer the questions. Okay? That’s, like, rule one.” Kendall patted his brother-in-law’s shoulder. “I’m not beating up on you here, I’m just saying that he got a win off you and you’re kinda the face of this now.”

Lifting her head up high, Shiv said, “Tom looks logical. Cruises, document destruction. It’d be laid out for us.”

Tom’s gaze swiveled to his wife, expression utterly torn. “What?” he croaked out.

“I’m not saying you should be,” the red-head defended. “But I’m just saying you’re like family, but you’re not… actually family, which is also good. Tom, it’s the elephant in the room. We can say that!”

“No, we can’t! There’s absolutely no need to speak of the elephant in the room! There’s fifteen other fucking elephants in this room!” With an angry scoff, Tom threw both his hands up. “If you want someone who’s family but not family, what about Y/N?”

Immediately, Roman let out a high-pitched, “No! Why would it—why the fuck should it be her?”

Tom’s face contorted under the scrutiny. “I don’t know. General manager of Waystar, and goddaughter to Logan sounds like a good fucking steak to throw to the lions.” At your confused expression, Tom quickly backed down. “I’m not actually saying Y/N. I’m just saying things! It just—it shouldn’t be me. What about you, huh, Shiv?”

“Okay, fine. How do I work?” she hissed out. 

“I don’t know!” Tom exclaimed, his voice raising a few notches in volume.

Gerri pursed her lips to the side and mentioned, “I mean, if we’re saying Shiv, we could highlight witness tampering and, uh, that she was going to take over but—I don’t know, it probably wouldn’t work.”

Shiv reared back as if she’d been stung. “Uh, yeah. Too fucking right it wouldn’t work. I don’t make sense, I’ve never been inside.”

“What about both of them? Shiv and Tom? Beauty and the beast,” Roman said.

“Does Tom work?” Logan asked. “Alone?”

A long beat of silence. 

In all honesty, you thought he’d work. The missing documents were more than enough to go off of. 

But Kendall shook his head, and it flew right out the window. “Honestly, I don’t think he’s a big enough skull. No offense.”

“Then how about Tom with some fucking… Greg sprinkles?” Roman asked, gesturing to his cousin, who’d managed to polish off all the grapes on the tray. One of the workers floated by to take the tray away, no doubt to fill it back up again.

“Greg sprinkles?” parroted Greg.

Wincing, you apologetically added, “I mean, you did destroy those documents for Tom, no? It’s—it's an aided crime. It works.”

Connor laughed. “Elmo and Big Bird. I could start to see that, yeah. You could throw in a Karl or a Frank, and you’re golden.”

“What—what precisely are Greg sprinkles?” asked the Roy cousin.

“Greg sprinkles are basically a fantastic garnish for practically anyone seated at this table,” Roman replied with a faux warm smile. “Like a Tom sundae with a little Greg cherry on top.” He popped his lips and Greg frowned.

“No, I object. I do. I mean—I’m more than a sprinkle! What about you, huh? What about Roman?”

“Roman?” you asked, cocking a brow. “How would he be a good candidate?”

“Well, he’s widely known as a terrible person!”

Roman snorted. “Thanks, Toe Jam.”

“There’s another elephant in the room,” Connor interrupted. “What about I just throw myself over the side, huh?”

Shiv laughed quietly, hiding her smile behind her palm.

“Yeah, just—in return for a payout. I’m cash strapped, so just lock me into that sweet, sweet golden parachute and toss me in the volcano!” said the oldest Roy sibling. On he blathered, about how he should be the one to take the fall.

Logan glanced around. “That’s… that’s kind of you, Con. Thank you. We’ll bear it in mind.” He smiled, but it wasn’t quite authentic. It wasn’t real. Connor slumped back, going largely ignored once again.

With that, Logan stood up. “We have half an idea but… yeah. Let’s do this later.”

Off he went, through the glass doors, gone to God knows where.

You and Roman exchanged a look. His was one of relief and gratitude, yours was one of exasperation. Then, Roman leaned forward to snatch the tray of grapes away from Greg, and offered a branch of the plump green fruits to you. 

Dinner left a stale taste in your mouth. Maybe it was because you weren’t particularly fond of the served courses. Maybe it was because of the rocking motions of the boat upsetting your stomach. Or maybe—maybe it was because Logan had finally chosen his sacrificial lamb.

Kendall stood beside his father with pursed lips. Logan nodded to the sitting group. “I’ve decided,” he simply said.

Incredulity danced across Roman’s expression, brows raised. “Ken?” he asked. “Come on, really? Dad, you—no. There’s… what about the… one of the other shitfuckers?”

Your eyes darted from your godfather, to Kendall, who took a seat across from you. He met your eyes, if only for a brief moment. A part of you felt bad for him—after all, to you he was always going to be the eight-year-old boy draped in a suit far too large for him, practicing a speech in front of the mirror for a nameless award he was going to accept one day. He’d make you and Roman sit down and listen to him, four and five years of age, expectantly turning to the two of you after he was done and asking if it sounded okay. Desperate for approval, even if the assurance came from two young kids with missing teeth and bored eyes.

He was practically your brother. You averted your gaze with mild shame burning within your chest.

“Hey, it’s okay,” said Kendall. He looked around the table. “You’re all off the hook.”

Roman leaned forward and asked, uncharacteristically genuine, “You okay?”

Wordless, Kendall nodded. He was trying his best to stave away the frown tugging at the corners of his lips. There were tears warbling over his irises. 

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m good.” 

But he wasn’t. Roman knew, and you knew, too.

Karl cleared his throat. “Is it just… I don’t wanna be rude here—is it just him?”

Gerri tilted her head. “First—uh, second-born son—with his responsibilities, it wouldn’t be a hard sell.”

“Roman,” said Logan. “You’re taking over as full chief operating officer.”

An indignant noise fell from his throat. “Yeah? What with Captain Cautious back in the other room?” 

“No, no. Frank’s going to be responsible for the cruises clean up. You’re on your own. Solo.” Logan stared at his youngest son. “Can you handle it?”

Beneath the table, Roman’s jostling knee bumped into yours. “Yeah,” he unenthusiastically said. “That’s really exciting.”

Kendall spared his little brother a lopsided smile. “No, Rome. It’s great. For real.” Then, he raised a fork. “Eat up, guys. This one’s on me.”

Day three on the boat. You woke up to Roman’s arms wrapped around your midriff, his face buried in the fabric over your chest. He sleepily mumbled and whined when you dragged yourself (and, effectively, him as well, seeing as he refused to let go of you) out of bed. The two of you brushed your teeth together before you promptly kicked him out of your room so you could take a quick shower in peace.

By the time the both of you got down to have breakfast, Greg was the one to tell you that Kendall had left earlier in the morning. 

“Right to his slaughter,” you mumbled to Rome, who’s face twisted with guilt.

An hour later, you were watching Kendall on the television. Shiv and Logan were on the couches, and Roman had both his hands resting on your shoulders, kneading your muscles as if you were a stress ball.

“I have been asked to explain my role in the management of illegality at the firm and associated cover ups. And it has been suggested that I would be a suitable figure to absorb the anger and concern,” said screen Kendall. To your surprise, his words were followed by, “But…”

You and Roman exchanged glances. He stopped working at your shoulders and crossed his arms. 

“The truth is that my father is a malignant presence. He is a liar, a bully, and was fully aware of the events that had transpired on the cruise ships for many years, and made efforts to hide and cover up. He had a twisted sense of loyalty to bad actors like Lester McClintock, and a disregard for the safety of migrant workers, union and non-union workers, along with vulnerable performers and guests.”

“Fuck me,” Roman whispered. Logan silently lifted a finger to his lips to shush him.

The Kendall on screen was vastly different to the puppet Kendall you’d come to know for the past few months. He’d finally broken free of his strings.

“My father keeps a watchful eye over his entire empire, and the notion that he would have allowed millions of dollars of settlements and compensation to be paid without his explicit approval is utterly fanciful. I have with me today copies of records that show his personal sign-off. How much those of us who executed his wishes bear responsibility is for another day.” 

Shiv briefly twisted around to shoot you an utterly dumbfounded look, as if to ask you if you’d known he was going to do this. You sent her an equally befuddled expression.

“But I think…” said Kendall, “This is the day his reign ends.”

With that, Kendall got up and walked off to the side, out of the camera’s view. You couldn’t see it, for Logan was facing the screen, but there was a slight smile on your godfather’s face.